Sporks, Pants, and Squall
by Pervy Bunny
Summary: I wrote this in 2 weeks and used over 300 dares! Squall's new room mate mails his pants to Galbadia and weird crap happens. The line


Introduction  
  
Before you read this novel, I must warn you of one thing: this is easily the tackiest Final Fantasy VIII novel ever written. Not only was it written in two weeks, it was based entirely on National Novel Writing Month dares. In fact, even this introduction was inspired by a dare.  
What are National Novel Writing Month dares, you ask? NaNoWriMo is an annual tradition in which writers from all over the world attempt to write an entire novel in Novemeber, but end up spending most of their time on the message boards. On these message boards, there is a tradition of having a "Dares Thread" in which the novelists dare each other to do various odd things in their novels. These vary from challenges to easy, random things that can occur within a sentence. Some are plot-altering while others must have nothing to do with the plot.  
To be perfectly honest, I have no idea what NaNoWriMo dares have to do with Final Fantasy VIII, and I definately had no idea before I began writing this that sporks and pants have anything to do with Squall. But they do, believe it or not. And a novel based on Final Fantasy VIII worked perfectly because all types of dares work in the setting. It's a modern- day fantasy setting, which opens it up to mundane dares involving things like telephones, but also to fantasy and sci-fi dares (a separate but related thread). Also, rather than focusing on developing elements such as characters and setting, writing a fan fic let me concenrate on using as many dares as possible. Between the NanNoWriMo 2002, 2003, and Fantasy and Sci-fi dares there were over 1,000 dares that I could use. Only a few hundred of them made it into this novel.  
Although this was not written in November, it followed many NaNoWriMo conventions. It was written in a condensed frame of time (two weeks), it had a character named Mr. Ian Woon, it's got the plot ninjas and the lesbian ninja cabbages, a Chris Baty cameo appearance, and many more elements familiar to NaNoWriMo participants. It also has the classic features of a Final Fantasy VIII fan fic: a little yaoi, Quistis bondage, a million references to chocobos and moogles, and so on. The two genres blended perfectly into this piece of crap.  
Even if you aren't a Final Fantasy VIII fan or a NaNoWriMo novelist, this has a little something for everyone (excluding people who have a stick up their ass and never laugh). So enjoy it, or the plot ninjas will send your pants to Galbadia!  
  
Chapter 1 In Which Squall Leonheart Wears the Pants Belonging to His New Room Mate  
  
"Where the hell are my pants?" was the first thing that I yelled one morning when I woke up. It wasn't that I was entirely pants-less; it's just that the only thing I could find resembling pants were a pair of moogle boxers I was wearing but didn't recognize. My closet was utterly pants-less. My navy blue uniform pants were gone, my jeans were gone, my black leather pants were gone, even my underwear was gone. But at least my belts were still there, so I put them on over the strange moogle boxers.  
As I was fastening the third belt, a skinny, black-haired boy with glasses entered the room.  
"You may be wondering why you're wearing someone else's pants," He said.  
"Who the hell are you?" I said, glaring at him.  
"I'm Cthulhu, the new exchange student from Galbadia. I'm your room mate for a few months," he said, holding out his hand for me to shake it. He put his arm back down when I ignored him. I always got stuck with either exchange students or weirdoes, or in this case, a combination of both. Seriously, I had been at Balamb Garden since I was five years old and every year I went through at least four room mates, all of them either weirdoes or foreign exchange students. One of the most memorable years was when I got stuck with this guy named Toby who reminded me of Marie Antoinette for no particular reason. And there was the guy that smoked bong non-stop. And the guy that wet his bed all the time. Boy, I had all the luck when it came to room mates. The most amazing thing was that none of them ever actually stayed in Garden. They just showed up randomly, stayed there for a few months and made my life living hell, then left and took all their crap, leaving my room a trash heap with no TV. I had been really lucky for the last three weeks because I had no room mate. But now it was second semester and the circus freaks- I mean, the cadets- were back.  
I always stayed at Balamb Garden over winter break, since I was an orphan and didn't have anywhere to go during vacation anyways. But I don't much like to talk about that. It's more fun to make fun of my room mates. And this guy already seemed freakish. I mean, he resembled a popular literary figure physically, he had a freak Celtic name, and he was in on some kind of pants conspiracy. This was going to be some semester... I couldn't wait until I became a SeeD and the non-stop of parade of freak room mates would come to an end because I would have my own room. Having the room to myself for two weeks was the only good thing about winter break, in my opinion.  
Anyways, Cthulhu was about to explain what the deal was with my pants before I started ranting. And I'm sure you would love to know what was going on. But then I would have to rip you apart with my gunblade and flush your remains down the toilet. And you wouldn't want that, would you?  
Heh, I was just joking. What? You don't think a mercenary-in- training can have a sense of humor?  
"So what the hell do you know about my pants?" I asked.  
"Well, I have a little gambling problem, you see. So back in Galbadia I got into this real intense game of poker and bet all my pants. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough pants to pay the guys back. So before they could kill me, I decided to hide out here for a few months and figure something out. That's when I saw your pants and thought, 'hey, why don't I just mail these back to Galbadia?' So your pants are somewhere in Galbadia Garden. Terribly sorry. But hey, I'll pay you back some time, alright?"  
I wrapped one hand around his skinny neck, picked him up and pinned him against the wall. "I need my fucking leather pants back!" I yelled. "They match my jacket!"  
"S...s...sorry. Don't kill me!"  
I wondered how long this guy had attended Galbadia Garden, since he didn't seem as strong as the average cadet. Anyways, I had an idea.  
"Tell me the address of your 'friends' and I will spare your life," I said.  
Cthulhu actually gave me their address and the phone number for their dorm rooms. I was going to call them later and tell them to send that damn package right, straight back to Balamb Garden and continue to harass Cthulhu for his debt. But first I had to get to class. I checked out the schedule that was in my "mail box". You want to know how cheap Balamb Garden was? The "mailbox" was an envelope attached to the door with duct tape. A lot of people put stickers and crap on theirs, but mine was just an ugly white envelope with duct tape around it last I checked.  
The last time I checked was before Cthulhu moved in. He had already plastered the damn thing with holographic stickers. Anyways, that's not the only thing that was new with the mailbox. There was a welcoming letter for Cthulhu, a whole bunch of crap for him with information about Balamb Garden, and a schedule for each of us. I looked over my schedule and it looked the way I predicted it would besides one block that said, "Elven 101- room 210- Instructor Tolkien". I didn't remember signing up for Elven. In fact, I couldn't think of a single reason why I would need to know Elven. I didn't even realize that the foreign language department at Garden was that big. It was a military academy, not a freakin' university! Anyways, I could not figure out how the hell I ended up signed up for a class in Elven language 101. I would have to ask the guidance counselor how the hell that happened or if that was just a joke.  
  
Chapter 2  
In Which Squall Leonheart and Cthulhu Erserelmquesam Use Sporks  
  
Before I took up this Elven 101 issue with my guidance counselor, I wanted to have breakfast. In fact, I had to have breakfast or I would go into a Hunk-like rage and destroy the school, figuratively speaking. Coincidentally, Cthulhu wanted to have breakfast too, and asked me to show him where the cafeteria was. I explained to him the main thing to remember about the cafeteria: he must be familiar with the art of using a spork. You see, Cid didn't have all that big of a budget when he built the place. So to cut down on the cost of eating, he bought a crapload of sporks instead of forks and spoons. I didn't think that was too odd when I was five, but now I realized that we were the only people in the world that consistently used a knife and spork at every single meal, every single day. The first time I went to a restaurant, I was unfamiliar with the usage of a normal fork.  
Oh, and Headmaster Cid had a very dark, dirty secret: while all the students were using cheap, mass-produced sporks, he had a full service for six set of utensils in his house, complete with dinner forks, salad forks, desert spoons, soup spoons, the works. And what did we have? Sporks! And they didn't bother providing knives, either, since every damn student carried around about ten knives with them anyways. So you would see guys cutting apart, say, a steak, with a throwing knife and a spork. And we were so used to this we didn't see anything freakish about it.  
Anyways, I told Cthulhu the classic saying that the Balamb Garden cafeteria staff had: "You provide the knife and we provide the spork!"  
Cthulhu said, "I'll have a banana and a muffin," and I laughed my ass off. "What? What the hell is so funny?"  
"Muffin...." I said, doubling over with laughter. It was an inside joke that was as old as Cid and Edea's orphanage. However, I don't have time to explain it right now. The important thing is that the word "muffin" still made me giggle like a four-year-old.  
Anyways, Cthulhu wanted to sit at the table with Mary Sue and her friends because Mary Sue was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had curly blonde hair down to her waist, violet-blue eyes, a flawless complexion and a skin tone that was a perfect golden tan even in the middle of winter. She was slender, but busty, and wore her uniform skirt much shorter than she was supposed to. I really didn't want to sit with her and her cheerleader friends and Cthulhu the new freak, but the cafeteria was so crowded that I had no choice. It just killed Cthulhu when I pulled out a huge dagger, picked up my spork and started cutting apart a waffle.  
"What? What the hell is so funny?" I said, setting the maple-syrup covered weapon down on the table.  
"You use a sword to cut apart waffles?" he said in disbelief.  
"Yeah, genius. This is the only school in the area that allows the students to carry knives and swords and crap, so we use that privilege," I explained. "I can even use a gunblade to cut apart waffles! Watch," I said, pulling out my gunblade and cutting one of my waffles into perfect little squares. Cthulhu looked impressed.  
"He's lying," Mary Sue said, "Really we use knives to cut stuff apart because Cid still hasn't gotten around to ordering a real set of silverware. Cheapo."  
"So, Mary Sue," Cthulhu said, "Did you know that Squall laughs his ass off every time you say the word 'muffin'?"  
I snorted, but tried to hold in my laughter.  
"Really?" she said, eyes lighting up. "MUFFIN!"  
"Spork the muffin!" Cthulhu yelled, stabbing his muffin with a spork. "Banana!!!!!!!"  
"STOP IT!" I yelled, laughing my ass off.  
"Muffin! Muffin! Muffin!" Everyone chanted. I laughed so hard that my head hit the table, making a bunch of sporks go flying. The next thing I knew, I heard Mary Sue screaming. Then I laughed even harder because there were a bunch of sporks sticking out of her chest and another one that hit her right in the eye. It was the funniest damn thing I had ever seen.  
"I am slain!" Mary Sue declared, landing dramatically on the floor. Good riddance, I thought. If that seems mean, you obviously never had to deal with cheer leaders in high school. I only had one good memory of cheer leaders, and it was the most freakish thing ever.  
There I was, sitting in the quad to study because it was a nice day when I heard the Balamb Garden cheer leaders yelling out some kind of cheer over and over again. It was as obnoxious as hell. They kept jumping around and chanting the same thing over and over again, so I went to see what it was. Turns out they were yelling, "Look! Look! Look at my crotch!" as they jumped into the air and did a split. It was disturbing, but funny as hell.  
Anyways, Mary Sue had just died from being sporked. Couldn't wait to see how that obituary turned out. Cthulhu and I continued having breakfast as if nothing had happened.  
"I'm gonna go get another muffin," he said, walking away. I laughed so hard I cried. It was awful. Everyone was staring at me wondering what the hell my problem was, since normally I'm quiet as hell and never even smiled. A few minutes later he came back with a bowl of cereal.  
"Damn cheap asses were out of muffins," he said as he sat down.  
"Stop... you're killing me!" I said, collapsing onto the table again.  
"Dude, you've got maple syrup in your hair," he said. I laughed helplessly. Laughing was like a curse with me. Once I started, I just couldn't stop. That was a pretty serious curse for someone who attended a military school. I mean, think about it, what if Cthulhu whispered the word "muffin" to me and I started laughing out loud at a time when I was supposed to be quiet and keep a straight face? It would be the most humiliating thing ever if I got in trouble for laughing. I would kill Cthulhu if he did that to me.  
  
Chapter 3  
In Which Squall Leonheart Mentions That Mr. Ian Woon Was Conceived at  
Woodstock  
  
My first matter of business after breakfast was the issue of this Elven 101 class. I had just enough time before my first class to get to the guidance counselor's office and request a change. It was lucky for me I was the first one to get there, since everyone had similar issues the first day of the semester.  
The guidance counselor was a Moomba. I don't know how that happened.  
Ok, not really. Just wanted to see your reaction. The guidance counselor was just this guy named Mr. Ian Woon who was in his twenties or so, and everyone in the school knew he was conceived at Woodstock. It was way more than anyone wanted to know, and yet it was common knowledge.  
"Can I help you?" he asked.  
"Yes, I would like to ask you about this schedule," I said, holding out my paper. He pulled a pair of glasses out of his pocket and put them on, then looked over the paper.  
"What is it you need to know about, Mr... Leonheart?"  
"Why the hell am I signed up for Elven 101?" I asked. "I didn't sign up for any foreign languages."  
"Well have you taken any foreign languages yet?" he asked.  
"Yes; in 7th grade I took Latin and couldn't stand it, so then I took Japanese in 8th grade."  
"Anything after that?"  
"No, I had my fill of languages by that time."  
"Well, that's what happened then; you need three foreign language credits before you can take the SeeD exam."  
"May I request a change, please? I've heard Elven is one of the most complex languages there is, and I really don't think I'll ever need it for anything-"  
"Let me check if there's room in any of the other classes," he said, clicking a few things on his laptop and taking a sip of coffee. "Hmmm... most of the classes are full already. However, there is an opening in the Advanced Klingon class."  
"Nah, Elven would be fine I guess, but I really see no reason at all why a freakin' mercenary needs to take three years of foreign languages!"  
As I was saying that, a man walked in with a small stack of papers and asked Mr. Ian Woon if he could use his copying machine.  
"By all means, Captain Obvious," Mr. Ian Woon replied, "However, you may have some difficulty with it. That thing has a mind of it's own. You may need to bargain with it."  
"So I see..." Captain Obvious said, placing the first page on the photocopier. It displayed a message that said, "give me one good reason why I should copy this piece of crap for you."  
"This is a very important document, now I don't have time to haggle with a damn photocopier-"  
"Sir, you must bribe the photocopier," Mr. Ian Woon explained.  
"Ah, I see. Alright then, if you copy this for me, I'll use the good paper. See? It's nice and sturdy- and has a nice off white tone."  
The photocopier displayed a message that read, "Instructor Trepe gave me new toner earlier. Top that."  
"Well, I'll give you new toner and use the good paper," Captain Obvious said, replacing the plain paper with the fancy paper.  
"Now, Mr. Leonheart, what were you asking me?" Mr. Ian Woon asked.  
"I was asking why in the world a mercenary would need to take three years of foreign language, but not necessarily have to be fluent or even half-way competent in any language."  
"Mind if I field that question, Mr. Ian Woon?" asked Captain Obvious.  
"By all means, go right ahead."  
"You see, Mr. Leonheart, having three foreign language credits has nothing to do with being a mercenary. I mean, anyone with fighting skills can just be a mercenary. Look at Cloud Strife, he didn't know what the difference was between Latin and Pig Latin. And he made it as a mercenary just fine. However, you aren't going to be some bum who gets paid by a guy with a gun on his arm to blow up mako reactors. When you make it into SeeD, you'll be a mercenary and have an above-average high school education, complete with the three foreign language credits that normal high schoolers need to get into college. Do you understand now?"  
"I suppose so, although I don't see what I could possibly do with one Latin class, one Japanese class and one Elven class."  
"You can boost the school's reputation, of course. Nothing looks better than a school that offers more languages than anyone knows what to do with."  
"Well that makes sense I guess, but I have one more question. It says here that this class is taught by Tolkien. Now, I'm not an expert on literature, but this makes no sense... I thought he taught Anglo-Saxon, not Elven."  
"You probably also thought he was dead, didn't you?"  
"Well come to think of it, I did."  
"Let me explain: when someone dies, they go to another world, correct?" he said, pulling down a map of the universe that was rolled up on the wall like a window shade. Of course it was an outdated map of the universe; the Empire of Paramecia was still on there even though it was destroyed back in '88. Cid must have bought that map second-hand. "Right here on this alternate world is the country they call 'England'. When someone from that dimension dies, they will end up in another world. They may even end up being born into the world we are familiar with. Thus, Tolkien did not die but ended up in our world, just like many, many other people have done. Who knows, maybe you used to live in his world."  
"So... will he autograph my copy of 'Lord of the Rings'?" I asked.  
"I dunno, maybe..." Captain Obvious answered.  
"Woohoo! I am SO taking Elven 101!" I said as I left.  
  
Chapter 4  
In Which Squall Leonheart Fails To Mention How He's Suddenly in Class  
  
Much to my chagrin, I discovered that Cthulhu was in most of my classes. However, it was highly amusing to hear how the different instructors pronounced his name.  
"Ca-thoo-al-ho Erserelmquesam?" Instructor Trepe said as she was taking attendance.  
"Here. But it's pronounced Cthulhu, " he explained. I wondered if it ever got tedious to write the name "Cthulhu Erserelmquesam" on every paper he signed.  
"I see... alright then, Mike Rotch," Instructor Trepe said. Everyone had to stifle their laughter except for me. I didn't see what was so funny about Quistis saying "my crotch." That wasn't half as funny as the word "muffin".  
"Not here... alright, I.P. Freely. Is I.P. Freely here? No... Al Caholic?"  
By that time I was beginning to suspect that someone was playing a joke on her. But she kept on reading off the names in front of her.  
"Oliver Clothesoff... Jaques Strap... Seymour Butz.... Homer Sexual... Hugh Jass... Bea O'Problem... Amanda Huggenkiss... Ivana Tinkle... Anita Bath... Maya Butreeks... Heywood U. Cuddleme..." That's when she figured it out. After everyone else in the room couldn't contain their laughter any longer. We were all expecting Quistis to be stern and immediately punish whoever did this, but she really surprised us this time.  
"You guys," she whined, putting her head down on her desk like she was going to cry, "I'm really having a bad week... did you have to do this to me..." She really looked stressed out.  
"Alright, who did this?" one of the Trepies yelled, glaring at everyone in the room. No one spoke up, but everyone kept laughing their asses off.  
Quistis looked like she was slightly drunk or something. Her hair was a mess and she was out of it. "I'm gonna kill you guys..." she muttered under her breath.  
"We're sorry!" everyone said in unison, in a sing-songy type voice.  
"Alright!" Quistis said, sitting up straight suddenly, "No one leaves the room until whoever did this comes forward!" she said in a commanding voice. The look on her face made it clear that she meant business. "I don't care if we're here all day!"  
That was a lie, because after five minutes of silence she had to run off to the lady's room. When she came back, she was still in a bitchy mood. "Alright, who was it?" she asked, glaring at everyone.  
"Squall did it!" Seifer yelled.  
"I did not!" I yelled back.  
"NO TALKING OUT OF TURN!" Quistis shouted. That was the first time I had ever heard her yell in class. Usually she didn't act so bitchy over a little joke. That was why everyone played practical jokes on her; they knew she would have a sense of humor about it. But not me; I had never played a trick on her before. Seifer just thought it was funny to get me in trouble.  
"Sorry..." he muttered, then raised his hand.  
"Yes, what is it, Mr. Almasy?"  
"Squall did it, Instructor Trepe," he said.  
"I did not!" I yelled again.  
"Did too!"  
"Did not!"  
"Did too!  
"Did not!"  
"BE QUIET!!!" Quistis yelled. "You're giving me a headache. I'll talk to you after class, Mr. Leonheart."  
"Awww, you lucky duck!" the guy sitting next to me said. "I wanna be alone with Instructor Trepe!"  
"Instructor Trepe, that was me!" someone else yelled out.  
"No way, I so put that list there!" another guy yelled out. That was another reason why everyone played tricks on Quistis: they wanted to get her attention any way they could. They were totally immature and thought if they caused enough trouble she would "use her kinky whip" on them.  
"Ooh, Quisty, if it was me, are you gonna spank me?" someone else said.  
"SHUT UP!" Quistis yelled. Then she randomly said, "Damn, it's too hot in here!" and opened the window really wide even though it was the middle of December. She just stood next to the open window for a second and I wondered what the hell was going on. Then she slammed it closed and started walking towards her desk like nothing had happened. Half way there, she groaned and put her hands on her stomach, doubling over in pain. "owww..." she moaned, almost crying.  
"Are you alright?" a Trepie who was sitting in the front row asked.  
"I'm... fine... Oh Gods, that hurts!" she said, slowly falling to her knees and holding her stomach. "Ow..."  
"Here, use a potion!"  
"No... that won't work... it's... just my, um... that time," she said, blushing red. I truly had no clue what she was talking about. Yeah, I was that stupid. But we didn't have Sex Ed, and I didn't talk to many girls, so how was I supposed to know?  
So after groaning for several minutes and getting her groupies all worked up and worried about her, Quistis finally got back to her lesson. But then she was interrupted every five to ten minutes with some kind of crippling pain, and she kept acting moody repeatedly. I went in the "Quistis chatroom" and asked what was going on. That was the cool thing about Quistis' room: every desk had a laptop. So a bunch of idiots did nothing but hang out in a chatroom during her class. It was highly convenient; much better than passing notes because she rarely noticed what we were doing. A few students were actually bold enough to play on-line RPGs during class.  
  
Chapter 5  
In Which We Find Squall Leonheart in the Quistis Chatroom  
  
Some guy in the chatroom was pretending to be a Sith Lord and zapping everyone. A few people were talking about what a nice ass I had until they realized I could see their conversation. Everyone else was talking about Quistis, or about what classes they had that semester.  
"Does anyone know what's wrong with Quistis?" I typed in.  
"Feminine problem." someone replied.  
"Huh?" I typed. "I mean, like, what the hell?"  
"Women's curse,"  
"So... like, should I use an Esuna spell or what?"  
"LOL,"  
"OMG! You can cure PMS with an Esuna?" someone else typed.  
"No, you can't, I've tried it already."  
"What is PMS?" I typed.  
"Like... as in period."  
"Huh?"  
"Feminine problem."  
"I still don't get it."  
"HOLY SHIT! EVERYONE, SQUALL DOESN'T KNOW WHAT PMS IS!!!" "LOL!"  
"Well, what is it?"  
No one would answer me until Seifer typed in, "It's when chicks bleed through their vagina."  
"EEEWWWWW!!!" I typed. Then, "No, really, what is it?"  
"LOL."  
"Ask Quisty. ;)"  
I signed out, since that was going nowhere. I would ask Quistis after class, since I had to see her after class anyways. So as everyone was filing out, I walked up to her desk. She was opening a small bottle of pills labeled "Midol." Actually, she wasn't really opening it.  
  
She was struggling with it.  
"Squall... can you help me with this?" she said weakly, holding the bottle towards me.  
"Uh... I guess so," I said, opening it for her.  
"Thank you, Squall..." she said, taking a Midol out of the bottle.  
"So... uh... you wanted to see me after class?"  
She was about to say something when she screamed, grabbed her abdomen and started crying.  
"Quistis!" I exclaimed as she screamed again. "Are you alright?"  
"No, obviously not!" she yelled as soon as she could talk again. "I'm fucking bleeding, do you mind?"  
I cast a cure spell on her like a moron, but it didn't do diddly squat. "Would you like me to take you to the infirmary?"  
"No... I can't... if I took off a week every month, I wouldn't have enough sick days to cover it..."  
I felt sort of awkward when she didn't say anything. "Can I... go to class now? Are you done yet?"  
"What do you MEAN 'am I done yet'? You insensitive bastard!" she yelled.  
"Well will you hurry up and tell me what you wanted to?"  
"Right... as punishment for humiliating me in front of the entire class... you need to go buy me more tampons. With your own money. And I want good ones, too, don't go cheap and get the no strings attached ones or anything."  
"Um... ok. Where do you buy tampons?"  
"At the convenience store... a few blocks from here. If you don't give me more tampons by 1500, I'm giving you a detention."  
"Alright," I said and started to leave. Then I remembered that I was going to ask her what a PMS was. "Instructor Trepe?"  
"Yes?"  
"What's a PMS?" I asked. She looked at me for a second, realized I was serious, and then her jaw dropped. She couldn't believe that after opening a bottle of Midol and agreeing to buy tampons, I still had no clue what she was going through.  
"Well... you see, once a month... um... Oh Gods, how do I explain this.... well...."  
"What the hell is it?"  
"It's when you bleed non-stop for a few days.... um.... down there. And it's time we had a Sex Ed class! I'm going to Cid's office right now and telling him we must have a Sex Ed class!" She declared. I'm pretty sure she collapsed screaming several times on her way and had to be carried around by her groupies.  
Anyways, back to me. I couldn't believe Seifer was actually right. And of course I turned bright red when she explained it and truly wished I hadn't asked. I also realized how cruel it was to make me go buy her a box of tampons.  
As I was leaving the room, Quistis said, "And by the way, you're out of dress code."  
"Huh?"  
"Last I checked, moogle boxers with three belts around them were NOT part of the dress code. Now go get some pants on!"  
I was very impressed. She could say that with a straight face. Amazing what some people are capable of. "Oh Gods!!!!" I yelled, running to the dorms to get some pants on. I had to borrow some from another room, since Cthulhu had sent mine on a little trip to Galbadia. I wrote myself a memo to kick his ass later.  
I bought the tampons for Quistis. It was awful. I used my lunch hour to walk down to the convenience store and look around for tampons. Since I had never looked for such a thing before (obviously), I had no clue where to find them. It took me half an hour of looking around cluelessly to finally ask one of the near-by employees where to find the tampons. I specified that I wanted them with strings, since Quistis was going to kill me if I went cheap and got her string-less tampons. The girl I asked snickered slightly as she lead my to the aisle where they kept the tampons.  
So that was my whole lunch hour gone and I had turned about fifty shades of red by the time I got back to Balamb Garden. I looked at the pass Quistis had written me to get out of school and she actually said it was to buy tampons. No shit, under reason she wrote, "Mr. Leonheart needs to buy tampons." I swear, that woman was evil. Either that or massive blood loss made her temporarily evil. If she weren't a chick, I would have punched her. Then again, she was an instructor, so that was probably a bad idea. Well, I can say that it was an educational experience, since now I knew more than I wanted to about PMS.  
  
Chapter 6 In Which Squall Leonheart Hath Purchased For His Instructor Quistis Trepe a  
Box of Tampons with Strings Attached  
  
I had to literally run to my next class since I was running late after getting those damn tampons for Quistis. My next class was... you guessed it, Elven 101. I looked awful as I ran in out of breath; the pants I was wearing were three sizes too big for me, and they weren't ironed or anything. Plus they had fallen down slightly while I was running, and I was sweaty from the jog back, too. And I was holding a box of tampons. I just hoped that Instructor Tolkien wouldn't ask me if I had a pass. So guess what he did as soon as I walked in.  
"Do you have a pass, Mr..."  
"-Leonheart. Yeah, I have a pass..." I said, pulling it out of my pocket and handing it to him. Some way to meet your new teacher. I was planning on having him sign my copy of "Lord of the Rings", but now that he saw that pass that Quistis had written I was too embarrassed to even look at him. At least he didn't laugh, so I knew he couldn't have read the excuse she wrote for me.  
"Alright," he said, wadding up the pass and throwing it out, "You're right on time anyways. Have a seat."  
I sat in the back, not just because of that pass but because I always sat in the back. The only exception was when the back row was already full or if there was assigned seating. One time in second grade, I actually got into a fight with another kid about sitting in the back row. Anyways, he was just starting his introduction to the Elven language when I got there. I got stuck sitting next to Seifer, only because that was the last available seat in the back. He passed me a note right away, and I picked it up like an idiot. It said, "I didn't know you were into Elven."  
I wrote back, "I didn't know you were into Elven!"  
"Actually, I'm not. I just heard that this room has a microwave in it."  
"Why the hell would that be such an attraction?"  
"Promise you won't laugh?"  
"Obviously I won't allow myself to randomly burst out laughing in the middle of class!"  
"Ok... the reason why I need to use a microwave is because I killed this rat that I found in my room, and I wanted to see what would happen if I microwaved it."  
That didn't make me laugh. That just made me think that Seifer was an idiot. And I didn't need a stupid note to tell me that. The fact that he killed a rat in his dorm room said a lot about Garden though... I never had rats in my room because I didn't eat in my room all the time like that retard. I ate in the cafeteria, which seemed more logical than eating in the dorms. I also wondered why there was a random microwave in the room. That note we were passing back and forth was wrong on so many levels...  
"Why is there a microwave in here? So he can microwave coffee at random points during the day?"  
"Dude, haven't you heard the legend of the room 210 microwave? It's here because of the noodle incident."  
Oh, that's right. How could I possibly forget the noodle incident?  
Anyways, the class discussion that was going on was far more amusing even than Seifer's plans to microwave a dead rat. Instructor Tolkien had just asked us if there was anything we were dying to know about Elves right away. A girl raised her hand and said, "What's the dealy with the big ears? Are they, like, handlebars during sex or something?"  
Before he could answer, another girl said, "No, stupid! They're to hang stuff on."  
"Maybe they're not real at all but implants!"  
"They're there so that we know they're elves! Duh! Otherwise they would just be super-sexy, super- sophisticated humans, right?"  
"No idiot, it's because the Gods got bored making regular ears for humans so they made them pointy!"  
"So do they, like, improve their hearing?"  
"If you all shut up, he can tell us, you idiots!" I yelled.  
"Thank you, Mr. Leonheart. Now, as I was about to explain, the reason why elves have pointy ears is---"  
The bell rang just as he said that. He reminded us what our homework for that night was quickly and then we had to leave. I was pissed, since I really did want to know why the hell elves had such big ears. I couldn't stop wondering that, even as Seifer blathered to me about microwaves.  
"I wonder if that rat will stop smelling like shit when I microwave it..." he mused.  
"Um... how long have you kept a dead rat in your room?"  
"I dunno, I killed it before Christmas break."  
"Damn. Cid needs to hire a janitor or something...." That was another example of Cid's cheapness. We had a janitor that cleaned some of Balamb Garden but not others. Have you ever wondered when you played Final Fantasy 8 how I suddenly go from the circular hallway to my dorm without going through a hallway? It's because Squaresoft was so disgusted with the way the place looked that they edited out the places where Cid didn't pay the janitor to clean. So when you play, you don't have the joy of seeing the bathrooms, or the hallways in the dorms, or even most of the class rooms. You don't even have the fun of seeing the notorious room 210! Not that I'm dissing Cid or anything. Heck, before I realized that Laguna was my real father, Cid was the closest thing I had to a dad. He was a real nice guy, running an orphanage and all. It's just that he was cheaper than hell because the only job he had before starting Balamb Garden was running an orphanage. And the pay for that probably sucks. Plus the tuition for Balamb Garden was free for guys like me and it wasn't a public school either, so go figure. The only reason I had for resenting Cid was that he had normal silverware and the rest of us had sporks. Spoon-hoarding bastard. You may not think it was a big deal to use sporks instead of normal utensils, but how would you like it if instead of pizza that was made the normal way, you had pizza that was made with a freakish combination of cheese and sauce? That's what this spork dealy was like. I mean, how the hell did he ever decide to use sporks anyways? It was probably like this:  
"Headmaster Cid, the cafeteria has no forks!"  
"Let them use sporks!"  
  
Chapter 7 In Which Squall Leonheart Orders a Pizza from Juan Pablo's Pizza Joint, the Interdimensional Pizza Place, Best Pizza in the Universe, and Has it Topped  
with Green Peppers, Mushrooms, Pepperoni and Of Course Extra Cheese.  
  
I got to the cafeteria a little too late for dinner because the buffoon I always see in the elevator struck up such an interesting conversation.  
"Did you know that every year, thirteen people die from having vending machines fall on them?" he asked me.  
"What the hell were they doing, trying to get a free soda or something?"  
"Yeah. Or maybe they were trying to have sex."  
"Um...."  
Yeah. So when I got there, they were totally wiped out. There were even out of the crap that was left over from breakfast. A bunch of cheerleaders were having muffins for supper to lose weight. Struggling to keep a straight face, I said, "How would eating muffins for dinner help them lose weight?"  
"Well, if you gain weight from eating breakfast, then lunch, then dinner, they figure you'll lose weight by doing it backwards," the lunch lady explained. "Anyways, sorry about that. Here, have a coupon for Juan Pablo's Pizza Joint," she said, pulling a slightly wrinkled coupon out of her pocket.  
Another example of Cid's cheapness: running out of food all the time. I didn't care though, since Juan Pablo's Pizza Joint had way better food than the cafeteria. The interesting thing about Juan Pablo's Pizza Joint was that they were the only restaurant that was interdimensional and claimed to have "the best pizzas on many earths." And on top of that, it was run entirely by one man: Juan Pablo. Well actually he wasn't a man, he was a robot chef. But he could sure make awesome interdimensional pizza.  
I went into my dorm to order the pizza. I did not plan on actually eating there, after hearing about the dead rat in Seifer's room. I was just going to use my phone. But I accidentally picked up Cthulhu's ash tray because it looked like a telephone.  
(Author's note: when I was editting this I realized that I had accidentally written "ass tray" instead of "ash tray". I considered keeping it like that, too.)  
"Oh, what the fuck..." I muttered, putting it down. Every damn room mate I got had the weirdest damn stuff. The telephone was actually the thing that looked like a watermelon.  
I picked it up and dialed the number for Juan Pablo's Pizza Joint. Now, remember what I said about Juan Pablo's Pizza Joint being a one-robot chef operation? When I called, it actually sounded like I had reached a big-ass corporation.  
"If you are calling from outside the galaxy of Orion and would like to order a pizza, press one.... if you are using a coupon, press nine.... if you would like to be entered in our contest to win a lifetime supply of cheese after you order your pizza, press three." I pressed three just for the hell of it. It was a pain in the ass to order pizza from Juan Pablo's Pizza Joint, but everyone put up with the damn recording because they truly did make the best pizzas on many earths. And how could I POSSIBLY pass up a chance to win a lifetime supply of cheese? But instead of just getting to the point, it played a quick ad before the regular recording continued. It was about cheese, of course, and featured the line, "I don't need drugs now--- I've got cheese slices!" The ad made no sense at all, but it killed me. I could hardly place my order I was laughing so hard. They told me that Mario would be right over with my pizza.  
So to waste time until the pizza got to my room, I decided to watch TV. The advantage to having Cthulhu move in was that he brought a TV with him. Of course that's not the only reason why I could tolerate him. The real perk of having Cthulhu around was that it was hilarious the way every instructor had their own unique way of pronouncing his name.  
Anyways, I turned on the TV and there was an ad for this place called Sofa King. It showed a crapload of couches, and then the words appeared on the screen as the announcer said, "Prices Sofa King low you won't believe it!"  
That killed me. Anyways, there was actually a fashion show on TV. I wondered what the hell kind of channel Cthulhu typically watched. Of course there weren't too many possibilities for what it could be because Cid was far too cheap to pay for us to have cable.  
Anyways, I actually sat there like a weirdo and watched the fashion show. Turns out the latest item was something called a NaNoWriMo t-shirt. There was one they featured that said, "No plot? No problem!"  
Heh. Sounds like my life before I met Squaresoft. Anyways, that's not the only thing that was a really hot new style. They also said that the second hottest item right now was a shirt that said "Psycho Bitch." I wondered who the fuck would wear something like that.  
  
Chapter 8 In Which Squall Leonheart May Just Mention That He is Currently Wearing Mix- Matched Socks, as He Has Been Doing Since the Very Sentence This Novel-in-  
Progress Began.  
  
Mix-matched socks were suddenly in style, too. That was good news for me, because most of my socks were odd socks. You see, I had this serious problem with the dryer that I used for my laundry. I literally had two options for how to do my laundry: I could use the crappy old laundry room in the dorms (one of the MANY things you never got to see in Final Fantasy 8) or I could walk all the way to Balamb city and waste my GP on the quality washing machines. Since I didn't care too much about my clothes, I used the laundry room in the dorm. And the dryer was pure evil, I swear. Three guesses who bought that second hand from a bum on the street. And the first two don't count. Ok, I'll give you a hint: he was the headmaster of Balamb Garden and his last name was Kramer. Ok, now you have three guesses.  
To be fair, I never bothered to buy a non-evil washing machine after I became the headmaster of Balamb Garden, since I was just as cheap as old Cid. And for those of you who wondered why the hell he suddenly let me take over in Final Fantasy 8, he had a damn good reason. He was afraid that there was going to be an uprising over the sporks and evil dryer and rats in the dorm room issue. Not to mention the noodle incident!  
Now to get to what I was really going to discuss in this chapter: Sex Ed class. We actually had that. Quistis somehow convinced Cid that the boys of the school had to learn all about PMS lest they all "become like Squall". At least that's the way I picture it. I also pictured her bitching, screaming and crying throughout their entire conversation. It went something like this I think:  
  
"Ugn... you must think I'm such a bitch!"  
"You're not a bitch. You just have strong opinions and aren't afraid to express them. Because you're a bitch."  
Ok, most likely he wouldn't be crass enough to swear in front of a lady. This is Cid Kramer we're talking about, not Cid Highwind, remember?  
Back to Sex Ed. Mr. Ian Woon got roped into teaching all the cadets over the age of fourteen about sex, contraception, PMS, penises, you name it. As I was walking down the hall to the room, I saw a guy wearing a bear costume.  
"Welcome to Sex Ed, everyone," Mr. Ian Woon said, looking slightly nervous about saying "dirty" words in front of a bunch of teenagers. What killed me was when he was taking attendance and couldn't figure out how to pronounce Cthulhu's name.  
"Ka...thloohoo?"  
"It's pronounced Cthulhu," he explained for the billionth time.  
Anyways, he was talking about how med students dissected vaginas when my cell phone rang. I have no idea why his lecture had gone in that direction, nor did I realize before that I had a cell phone. I thought that was a TV remote in my pocket. You learn something new every day. So I went out in the hallway and answered it, claiming that it might be an emergency.  
"Hello?" I said. Someone breathed loudly at the other end of the line. "Hello?" I said again, just as they hung up.  
I went back into class, obviously. At that point, Mr. Ian Woon was talking about the many places where people had sex.  
"For example," he said, "I was conceived at Woodstock. My mother was a hippie elf, who smoked pot, and she met my father at Woodstock. Now, normally he didn't have sex with random hippie elves, but it's very difficult for fat, drunken men to resist the lure of an high elf high on pot..." he went on and on like that. It was really sick. He even included nasty details, like how they used an already used condom that they found on the ground, and it was muddy to the hippie elf got mud on her vagina and....  
Anyways, I had to go throw up I was so sick. When I got back, Mr. Ian Woon was talking about how his wife would always talk him into having sex by eating a warm onion while watching "Win a moron" hosted by Ron O'Mawni. I was totally lost, and when I looked at my notebook I realized that I had accidentally copied down all his notes in wing dings. That's right, I knew wing dings. I couldn't remember why though, because junctioning GFs repeatedly gave me amnesia. I hoped the GFs would wipe out the memory of Mr. Ian Woon's little lesson today.  
While I was trying to decipher my cryptic notes, Seifer finally yelled at him to shut up because he was making him sick. The next thing I knew, Seifer ripped a stiletto shoe off the girl next to him and threw it forcefully at Mr. Ian Woon. The heel of it hit him smack in the eye, cutting right back into his brain and killing him instantly.  
"Oh my Gods! That poor shoe!!!!" Cthulhu yelled and ran to retrieve the lethal stiletto heel from Mr. Ian Woon's eye. But it was hopeless. Mr. Ian Woon's eye was stuck to the heel.  
"Oh no! Mr. Ian Woon!" Seifer said sarcastically.  
"Oh my Gods, you killed Mr. Ian Woon! You bastard!"  
"MisTA I-AN woOON!"  
You get the idea. It was sheer chaos in there. "Hey Squall," Cthulhu said.  
"What?"  
"MUFFINS!!!!!!!" Cthulhu yelled. I doubled over laughing. It was awful. And later that day, a bunch of guys asked me what the hell that was about. I lied and said "I don't know," which caused a giant bucket of slime to fall on my head. Then they beat the crap out of me. But not because of the muffin thing, or because of the slime, or even because I was partially responsible for the noodle incident. No, they beat the crap out of me because I was wearing pants that I stole from one of them- and the guy I borrowed them from stole them from the Salvation Army! Why hadn't I thought of that? I could steal some pants from the Salvation Army while I waited for my pants to get back from Galbadia...  
  
Chapter 9 In Which Squall Leonheart Does Not Meet Rinoa Heartilly, Nor Does He Fight  
Edea, Formerly Known as Sorceress Edea, Nor Does He Really Do Anything  
  
When I woke up in the infirmary, I was again without pants. And me without pants was like cheesecake without cheese.  
But that's not the most important thing that was going on when I woke up. The important thing was that I woke up because my cell phone was ringing again.  
"Hello?" I said.  
"Hello, is this Squall Leonheart?"  
"Yes."  
"Congratulations, you have just won a NaNoWriMo t-shirt and a Psycho Bitch t-shirt!"  
"Uh... I did? Man, I must have been drunk when I entered that sweepstakes. Say, do you suppose you can send me a complimentary pair of pants while you're at it?"  
"No can do, my job is just to inform you that your new t-shirts are on their way. Have a nice day now!"  
No sooner had I put the cell phone back in my coat pocket (no pants, remember?) than this kid ran in frantically and yelled, "Oh my Gods, have you seen my chameleon anywhere?"  
"Uh... I don't know," I answered, causing another bucket of slime to fall on my head. The guy ran out of the room yelling, "Come back, chameleon!!!!" Not sure what his problem was.  
Anyways, as I was walking out of the infirmary (I felt fine by that point), I saw Dr. Kadawaki and her new assistant, Worm, pushing a small car into the emergency room.  
"Squall!" Worm yelled, "Can you help us? We need to get these poor clowns into the emergency room!"  
"What happened?" I asked  
"They got stuck in the car," Dr. Kadawaki explained.  
"Oh my Gods...." I said, helping Dr. Kadawaki push the car through the wide emergency room doors. Suddenly there was a hole in the ceiling, a huge burst of light, and a booming voice yelled out, "THIS IS THE VOICE OF ODIN!!!! CEASE YOUR INCESSANT PHRASE OF 'OH MY GODS!' WE ARE TIRED OF BEING INTERRUPTED BY YOU PUNY MORTALS AND YOUR PROBLEMS! WE ARE TIRED OF YOU SAYING 'OH MY GODS' WHENEVER ANYTHING REMOTELY INTERESTING HAPPENS! NOW STOP SAYING THAT SO I CAN GET BACK TO DRINKING MEAD!"  
"S...sorry, Odin," I said. "I didn't realize you were in the middle of a party."  
"IT'S VALHALLA!!! DUH I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF A PARTY!"  
"I'm terribly sorry, Odin. How can I make this up to you and the rest of the Aesir?"  
"I DEMAND A SACRAFICE!"  
"What sort of sacrifice?"  
"WELL IT CAN BE ANYTHING, REALLY, AS LONG AS IT'S IN GOOD TASTE. NOW IF YOU DON'T MIND, I WOULD LIKE TO GET BACK TO MY PARTY. SO LONG, SQUALL," he said, closing up the ceiling. It appeared as if Dr. Kadawaki and Worm didn't even hear my conversation with Odin. They were busy pulling out surgical instruments and carefully cutting the car apart. I started to leave, since I had to get to English class. Ms. Habecker was going to kill me if I didn't get to class. I'm not kidding, she once told me that if I was late to class again, she would "make a sim of me and KILL me!"  
As I was leaving, Dr. Kadawaki stopped me. "Squall, don't you remember? I need to remove that cist on your hand once I'm done with these clowns."  
Oh, that's right, I almost forgot about that cist that had been a bitch when I was typing. One night I was up at three AM drinking Snapple and typing a paper when I discovered a real Snapple fact: all porcupines float. But that's not what was important. What happened was, the last room mate who left had taken the "W" key off of my computer and I hadn't realized it until that point. Plus the computer lab was closed. And Quistis' room was closed. So I had to type the entire paper without using the letter "W". But that's completely impertinent to what Dr. Kadawaki and I were talking about.  
There was this cist on my left wrist that was a total pain whenever I was trying to type, and all the instructors required that their papers be typed, never hand-written. I had already tried to get rid of the cist though; one night someone was snoring really loud in the room next to mine, so slammed my hand against the wall really hard, since I heard that that was one way to destroy a cist. However, Dr. Kadawaki was NOT going to let me get rid of it myself. She told me to sit right there and wait until she was done removing the clowns from their miniature car.  
As soon as she was done surgically removing all thirty clowns from the miniature car, and removed the car from the operating table, she demanded that I lie down on the operating table. I lay down, expecting her to put me to sleep and have this surgery over instantly.  
Dr. Kadawaki put on a clean pair of plastic gloves and another face mask and said, "Ok, hold still, this won't hurt too much," as she pulled out a very tiny, very sharp knife.  
"Um... aren't you supposed to put me to sleep while you're operating?"  
"I could, but we have a lot of catching up to do while I remove this thing. So... how's school going these days? Still planning to take the SeeD exam in April?"  
"yeah..." I said, inching away from her slowly as she brought the knife closer to my hand.  
"CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE!" Worm yelled.  
"Now Squall, if you don't hold still, I can't remove this thing. Just lie down and relax for a second, ok?"  
  
Chapter 10 In Which Worm Stands Around Doing Nothing While Squall Leonheart and Dr.  
Kadawaki Have a Conversation  
  
"Dude. You're bleeding," Worm said as I screamed, blood flowing like cheese sauce. Dr. Kadawaki had barely missed actually cutting open the cist because I was squirming around so much. Instead, she had made a random gash across my hand.  
"SQUALL!" she yelled. "HOLD STILL!!!!"  
"I can't!" I said, crying.  
"CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE!" Worm yelled again.  
"Worm, bring me some duct tape!" Dr. Kadawaki yelled.  
Worm obediently brought her a roll of duct tape and she proceeded to duct tape my wrist to the operating table while she said, "So, I hear Instructor Trepe asked you to go to the winter formal. How did that go?"  
"Alright, I guess..."  
"CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE!"  
"She's a nice lady. But I hear she's going to cut off all the computers in her room from the internet."  
"Why's that?"  
"CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE!"  
"Oh, she found out about the Quistis Chat room," Dr. Kadawaki said, slashing open the cist. I screamed again when she did. She just kept blathering on and on, and I couldn't say anything since I was crying the entire time. "... so then I said to her, "but show me a writer who, when not writing for pay, deliberately writes for self-expression, and I will show you one of the rarest cases of freakish misapplication in the entire dime museum of human nature'- ok, Squall, I'm almost done. I just need to heal up this other cut right here. Do you know if you're allergic to Odine brand potions?"  
"Not that I know of," I said. Of course no one had ever used a 20- year-old, expired Odine brand potion on me before, so how the hell was I supposed to know that I was allergic? As soon as I drank it I started to itch all over and break out.  
"Oops, I should have thrown that thing out back in '86 when it expired... here, let me try a topical treatment instead," she said, applying some kind of stuff to the cut. I screamed and felt like my hand was on fire. She tried about ten other antidotes, cures, etc, and I was allergic to EVERY SINGLE ONE! By the time she was done, I couldn't even breathe, I was itching all over, my eyes felt like they were burning, my skin was irritated, the wound was probably infected, and she ended up hooking me up to a full life-support system. Then she used anesthesia. I fell asleep immediately and had a truly awful dream.  
I was in my room, typing up a paper at three in the morning, as usual. And, as always, I had to write the entire thing without using the letter "W". Half way through, I realized that my wrist was bleeding. As the blood fell onto the keys, the letters disappeared and I could no longer use them. Before the essay was even half done, all I could write was gibberish. So I wrote "Tha and" since the letter "E" was missing, saved the file as a .PDF, and then zipped it up so I could send it. I had to e- mail it to Ms. Habecker. Come on, you can't tell me your high school English teacher never gave you nightmares!  
So I opened up the e-mail and attached the zipped .PDF file, then hit send. A message popped up.  
"I'm terribly, terribly sorry," it said. "But I really can not send this file. I just can't quite connect with the other computer. I will try to establish a connection. But this may take a while. So I will try to keep you occupied with these Simpsons quotes: 'Kids these days think that comedy is all about dirty words. But actually, it's not. It's about words that sound dirty. Like mukluk.' 'Today's specialty is re-fried crap.' 'They have the internet on computers now...'"  
I got really frustrated, pulled the plug, then restarted the computer. I really, really had to send that file. So I made an e-mail, addressed it to Ms. Habecker, and attached the zipped .PDF file. This time, when I hit the send button, all it did was link me to a porno site. I totally freaked out. The name of the site was "Mr. Ian Woon" and featured nude pictures of Mr. Ian Woon, as well as a description of him. It began with, "I am Mr. Ian Woon, a 38-year-old virgin who was conceived at Woodstock, likes to pose naked, and once held a job as school counselor at Balamb Garden." I screamed, minimized the web page and hit the send button on my e-mail again. This time it opened up a pop-up ad for viagra. Every damn time I clicked the send button, it either sent me to a porn site, or it opened up an ad. I got ads for mortgage rates, viagra, penis enlargers, more porn sites, cars, you name it. Plus there where naked pictures all over the computer screen- and all over my room after a while, and the fucking e-mail WOULD NOT SEND!!!!  
So I hit Alt-Ctrl-Delete like a mad pianist slamming a dramatic chord of a symphony repeatedly until the computer re-started. By this time I was totally freaked, I had to send the damn .PDF file, and I just couldn't do it!  
Finally the computer restarted, but it did that thing where it says "computer was shut down improperly" and then starts scanning your whole damn hard drive. I screamed at it and slammed the key board over and over again. The Microsoft paperclip walked in my room and said, "what's wrong?"  
"What's wrong?" I yelled. "WHAT'S WRONG? I NEED TO SEND THIS FUCKING .PDF FILE!!!"  
"What's wrong?" the paper clip said again. It was awful. It was like the part in 8 bit theatre where the guard in Corneria says, "Welcome to Corneria!" over and over again and Fighter says, "I like swords!" over and over again. I finally ripped apart the paper clip with my gunblade and resumed the business of sending the .PDF file.  
Just as I was about to click the button with which to send it, my hand froze up as if suddenly in a cast. I screamed and tried to click the mouse with my other hand, but that wouldn't work either. I was completely frozen and HAD to send that damn .PDF file...  
  
Chapter 11  
In Which Squall Leonheart is Still on Life Support in the Infirmary of  
Balamb Garden  
  
Hello, I'm Pooky. You may be wondering where Squall is this chapter, since he was your narrator up until this point. Well you see, Squall didn't do anything interesting while he was in a coma besides having that nightmare about a .PDF file. He kept rambling about the Microsoft paper clip trying to take over the world as Dr. Kadawaki was putting a cast around his right arm, since she had just removed a cist.  
So anyways, let me tell you a little about myself. I have bright pink fur, and I like crawling through small spaces and spying on people. That's the important thing to remember. But one time I got stuck in the ventilation system in Balamb Garden and ended up wandering through that maze for days. My paws, as delicate and quiet as they were, repeatedly made clicking noises against the metal tunnel I was walking through. I meowed, purred and hissed to get people's attention, but they ignored me. I spent eighty minutes meowing non-stop where Quistis could hear me, but she just continued to bitch- I mean, lecture. Sorry, it's just that when Quistis has her period, she talks like a bitch. The rest of the time she's a real nice lady. I'll walk in her room and she'll say, "Hey, Pooky, have you killed any rats in the dorms yet?" and it doesn't bother her at all that I have neon pink fur. She's a very nice lady. But she ignored me, which really pissed me off.  
So I had been in that tunnel for days, wandering around and making noise, even yelling at people and swearing and threatening to blow up the school if they didn't let me out. Then I ended up walking up to the vent in Cid's office and yelling at him to let me out but all he said was, "Oh, hey Pooky, would you mind getting me a beer?" then went back to reading his newspaper. It was something about a scandal in Esthar. Laguna got caught having an affair with a rival politician- right before the election for the next Esthar presidential election!  
There was a knock at his door.  
"Come in," Cid said, not bothering to look up from his newspaper. The door flew open and a short, fat plumber with blue overalls, a red shirt and hat, and a big mustache jumped into the room.  
"It's-a me-a, Mario!" he exclaimed.  
"Ah, hello Mario," Cid said, flipping the page of his newspaper. "What might you be doing here? Squaresoft isn't Nintendo's bitch anymore, you know."  
"Yes-a, well I still-a like-a you, Cid. Even if-a you are-a Sony's bitch. I-a come to-a fix-a the ventilation system."  
"Right. There's a cat that's been wandering around in there causing a lot of disturbance. Would you mind getting it out?"  
"No-a problemo! I-a stomp-a it like a goomba!"  
"Oh SHIT!!!" I yelled and started running through the tunnel, making a series of clicking noise as I ran for my life. I came to the notorious room 210 as I was making my daring escape from the daring repair man.  
Instructor Tolkien was busily writing something that appeared to be a 5000 word description of a hobbit walking through a forest. He didn't seem to notice that Seifer and Zell had just walked into his room, Seifer holding a dead rat and Zell holding an egg and a bag of popcorn. I didn't want to know what those boys were about to do, since I saw them approaching the microwave.  
"I can't wait to finally see what happens when you microwave a rat!" Seifer exclaimed.  
"Too bad Squall couldn't be here," Zell said, snapping open the microwave door. Tolkien didn't even look up from the long poem he was writing. "Dr. Kadawaki says he's in a coma right now."  
"Anyways, now for the moment of truth: what happens when you put a rat in the microwave?" Seifer said dramatically, placing the dead rat on the tray. I knew what I was going to have for lunch if I could figure out how to get out of this thing I was stuck in! He closed the door, suspension rising, and turned the dial to one minute. The rat spun around slowly on the plate, like a hideously dead and deformed carousel horse. "Awesome..." Zell said, entranced, as he stared at the rat. It started to make little popping noises as it combusted, splattering rat meat all over the microwave. I wished I could get out of the damn tunnel, climb in that microwave and lick it clean. It looked so good!  
Seifer pulled the steaming rat out of the microwave by the tail, then screamed because it burned his hand. The delicious-looking microwaved rat landed on the floor, blood splattering around it.  
"Ok, now my turn," Zell said, putting his bag of popcorn in there, "I'm going to have a snack."  
"Zell, that's not adventurous!" Seifer yelled.  
"Yeah it is, I put it in upside down!" Zell exclaimed. Just as he said that, the bag started burning, and the sides of the microwave started to push themselves outwards, getting ready to blow.  
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH MY MICROWAVE?" Tolkien yelled, unplugging it just before it could blow completely. The bag of popcorn fizzled down, still on fire. Tolkien opened the microwave, sprayed it with the fire extinguisher and threw the burned, shriveled bag of popcorn over to Zell. So much for cleaning the microwave out myself.  
"Nothing, sir," Seifer lied. "Zell and I just wanted to microwave some popcorn before watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail."  
"Well do it elsewhere. Headmaster Cid has already informed me that this microwave is highly important. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to make myself some lunch," he said, picking up the egg that Zell had brought and placing it in the microwave.  
"Um, Mr. Tolkien, I highly suggest you don't-" Seifer said as he turned the dial and the egg started to revolve around the microwave. It was too late for the warning though. The egg expanded, then blew up, causing the door of the microwave to fly off forcefully.  
"LOOK OUT!!!!" Zell screamed as the door flew towards Tolkien at over a hundred miles per hour. But alas, he screamed too late, for the microwave door hit him in the head. Blood and brains oozed over the microwave door as he fell to the floor, slain by the vicious room 210 microwave.  
I, too, met my demise that fated day. For as I was staring on, mourning the loss of a great author, I felt my insides expanding. They became so big that my skin could no longer contain them, and my guts burst out in every direction, ripping through my neon pink skin and splattering blood on my glamorous pink fur. I was no more than a huge blood stain on the ventilation system.  
  
Chapter 12  
In Which a Salt Shaker is Tragically Stolen From Squall Leonheart  
  
When I awoke for the second time in the infirmary, I found a cast around my right arm. Dr. Kadawaki explained that I would have to keep it on for two weeks since she had successfully removed the cist.  
"You do know how to fight left-handed with your gunblade, right?" she said.  
"No... In fact, I can't do anything left-handed!"  
"Well don't worry, I've informed all your teachers that you have just had a serious operation and that's why you weren't in class to day. It's dinner time now, you know."  
Serious operation my ass. It was a fucking cist, not a brain tumor! It wasn't serious until she used all that crap I was allergic to! Anyways, I was really hungry when I woke up, so it was a good thing that it was already dinner time. On my way out, Dr. Kadawaki warned me to be very careful since I couldn't use my right hand. I walked out muttering profanities but being sure not to mentions Gods, since I didn't need Odin yelling at me again. I still had to sacrifice something to the Aesir, too.  
So I made my way over to the cafeteria and ordered spaghetti like a total idiot. Have you ever tried eating spaghetti left-handed with a spork before? I had really had my fill of this damn spork business!  
Anyways, something very dramatic must have happened while I was unconscious, because suddenly Seifer and Zell were hanging out with Cthulhu. There were also a few other rejects at their table. I pretended they weren't there, but as I was aloofly walking pat their table, Seifer yelled out, "Hey! Squall! Check out the microwaved rat!" and held it right in front of my face. I almost puked.  
"Seifer! That's disgusting!" I yelled, shoving it back towards him. He let go of the thin tail and the rat landed on his salad. He looked really grossed out. "Serves you right," I said as he made a really disgusted face. Just as we were all wondering how to sanely and inconspicuously dispose of the rat and the salad, a black cat named Boo hopped up onto the table. She was wearing a little yellow collar and looked delicate, but actually she was quite vicious in the manner with which she devoured that hideous microwaved rat. It was the most sickening thing ever; she actually left the rat skeleton and a heap of fur in the middle of the table, and scattered the salad all around. Then she licked her paws daintily and walked off, with her little bell jingling slightly.  
"You know what's even more disturbing than the microwaved rat?" I said as a frog named Michigan hopped across the table. "The fact that random animals walk through the cafeteria on a regular basis." The frog was followed by a monkey who was wearing pants. "I really don't see why Cid lets so many people keep pets..."  
"Oh come on, don't tell me you haven't got a pet, too!" Cthulhu said.  
"Actually I don't..." I said.  
"We should get you a helper monkey!" Zell said.  
"NO!" I said. "And by the way, I'm not sitting down until you guys clean off the table."  
"Fine, don't then. Not like we wanted you to sit here anyways!" Seifer said snottily.  
"Hey, don't dis Squall! He's my roomy," Cthulhu said. Now that was disturbing, because I hated the word "roomy". It was "room mate", not "roomy". Anyways. Back to Cthulhu talking. "Besides, we had such an interesting conversation about breakfast foods my first day here," Cthulhu said, pulling out a magic rod and using it to push the dead rat remains off the table. It left a little trail of blood. "Is that better?" he asked.  
"No!" I said. "If some random health inspector walked in here would you do that? I want this table up to the average expectations of an upper- class, slightly paranoid person from a first-world country living in the late twentieth century. That is all I ask."  
That got him moving. The only down side was that once he had the table clean enough to eat at, a bunch of girls with pigtails and pajamas ran over, grabbed the salt shaker off of our table and ran off with it giggling. They were hoarding every salt shaker at their table it looked like and dumping about half a pound of salt on their pasta. I have no idea why. In fact, it was a little scary to see girls running around Balamb Garden in their pajamas.  
  
Chapter 13  
In which a dinner plate is tragically broken by Squall Leonheart  
  
"Squall, let me introduce you to my other new friends," Cthulhu said. "This is Filthy Bear," he said, pointing to an Indian, "This is Booty Fatpants," he said as he pointed to an overly curvy chick, "This is Jamie, Oscar Wilde, Mr. B Natural, Crista Galli, Victoria, Victor, Vickie, Josh, you already know Zell and Seifer, and this is Chris Baty, who runs the National Novel Writing Month web page. That's where I met all these guys."  
"National Novel Writing Month? What the hell?"  
"We all tried to write a novel in one month!" Jamie said.  
"But--- WHY?" I said. Just as Oscar Wilde was about to answer, Chato, one of the junior class members, ran up to our table and yelled out, "Can I borrow a shirt?"  
"Sure, whatever," I said, tossing him my freebie NaNoWriMo t-shirt. I was wearing the Psycho Bitch one because all my other shirts were dirty. A lot of instructors had gone nuts over it, yelled at me for being out of dress code, and so on because they were really offended by it.  
As I was talking over the finer points of insane noveling with Cthulhu's... friends... I was also having a great amount of difficulty trying to eat spaghetti with a spork. Just try it some time. See how far you can get. And since I was also very uncoordinated with my left hand, I could hardly get it to my mouth without spaghetti falling everywhere. Victoria had the nerve to say, in a very offended tone, that I was eating like a two-year-old.  
"So what!" I said, then grabbed a strand of spaghetti and started to suck it in. Yes, I was eating like a two-year-old. But I had had enough with this spork business. "If it weren't for the fucking spork issue, I might be able to eat this the normal way!"  
"Oh. My. Gods. Are you insulting sporks?" Chris Baty said, shocked and offended.  
"Yes, in fact I am!" I said.  
"But... but... sporks are the best!" Booty Fatpants yelled.  
"All hail the almighty spork!" Vickie said, giggling and holding her spork up like a trophy.  
I tried to change the subject. "This spaghetti could use some cheese," I said, reaching for the container of parmesan cheese in the middle of the table. At least Cid didn't go cheap on putting lots of crap on the tables. Every table had salt, pepper, ketchup, mustard, you name it. Well, they didn't have salt now because those stupid girls had stolen all the salt shakers. Anyways, as I was reaching for the cheese, Jamie grabbed in and dumped all of it on Crista Galli's French fries.  
"Hey! What the hell are you doing?" Crista yelled as Jamie laughed her ass off.  
"Just having a little fun with Squall," Jamie explained.  
"WHY?" Filthy Bear yelled. "Why is my name Filthy Bear? I'm not even filthy!"  
"You ASS!" I yelled, picking up my spork and attempting to stab Jamie with it.  
"Run for your life! He has a spork!" Victor yelled. Jamie started running, but tripped over a banana peel and landed head-first on the hard floor.  
"Oh well, these fries are crappy anyways," Crista said, carelessly throwing her plate. It hit Victoria in the face, getting cheese and grease all over her clothes and making cheesy fries land all over the place. But the plate landed on the table unharmed.  
"You bitch!" Victoria yelled, throwing her salad at Crista but hitting Josh instead. Oily salad dressing oozed down the front of his shirt and he had pieces of lettuce and tomato in his hair. It wasn't long until everyone at the table, even me and Chris Baty, were throwing food at each other. I ended up covered in mustard and tomato sauce somehow, and Mr. B Natural ruined my Psycho Bitch t-shirt by spilling his entire cup of hot coffee down the front of it. I screamed, as it was scalding hot, and turned my entire plate of spaghetti upside-down over his head. Victoria dumped one of those little fruit cups on my head. Someone actually told on us to Raijin and Fujin.  
"FOOD FIGHT. STOP." Fujin said in a stern voice, glaring at us.  
"That's uncivilized, ya know?" Raijin added.  
Those two could be really tiresome. Not only did they make us clean up the table and the area we messed up, but we had to clean the entire cafeteria and do all the dishes. And we didn't have any dish washing machines in the building, either, since Cid had yet to find a random, broken, and possibly evil dishwasher by the side of the road.  
"You assholes..." I muttered, glaring at everyone in the group. Everyone was staring at us and laughing. It was humiliating.  
"Yeah! You guys are assholes!" Booty Fatpants yelled at Raijin and Fujin, then dropped her pants quickly and mooned them.  
"I was talking about you circus rejects, not them!" I said. "And I don't mean rejects from one of those circuses that require talent, I mean the freaky kind with all the bearded ladies and Siamese twins!"  
"Well it's too bad you think of us that way," Chris Baty said, "Since you're stuck with us until we clean this entire place and do all the dishes.  
"Oh my Gods!" Victor yelled. "Jamie's dead!"  
Everyone ignored Victor.  
"We're doomed!" Cthulhu yelled. "One small step like that can cause the Great Pumpkin to pass you by!"  
There was more idiotic conversation, but I prefer not to talk about it. Anyways, while the rejects and idiots were cleaning off the table, I stacked up all the dishes we had used and started carrying them towards the kitchen. It was rather precarious, since my right arm was completely out of order, but I was strong enough to carry about ten pounds of dishes stacked up precariously with one hand as long as I could move slowly and carefully.  
As I was making my way across the cafeteria, a man who was wearing nothing but a towel and a bowler hat came running across the room and bumped into me, knocking me to the floor, dishes and everything. I was slightly dazed and actually saw stars for a second. Then I realized with mounting horror that I had shattered a dinner plate to smithereens when I fell like that.  
  
Chapter 14 In Which Squall Leonheart Makes a Phone Call using the Cell Phone in His  
Pocket Which, Fortunately, Was Undamaged by the Throwing of Food  
  
I was a little bit dazed when I realized that I had broken a dinner plate. You see, there were just barely enough plates, and I knew I had to replace the broken one before anyone found out. I picked up the remains the best I could with one hand and took them into the kitchen. I didn't throw them out yet, because I figured they might come in handy while I was on the phone ordering a new plate. As I was setting down the shattered remains of the crappy old plate, I heard the doorbell ring. The amazing thing was, I didn't even know that Balamb Garden had a back door. Well anyways, there was a girl scout standing there.  
"Would you like to buy some girl scout cookies?" she said in an adorable tone, giving me a big smile. She was a very cute girl scout; she had little blond pigtails and everything.  
"Are they made with real girl scouts?" I asked jokingly.  
"Yes," she replied in all seriousness.  
"You sure?"  
"Yes."  
"Ok, I'll take one box of thin mints-"  
"We only have generic girl scout cookies. Mint combined with human flesh tastes nasty."  
"Fine, just gimme a damn box of cookies already," I said, then actually bought a box from her. I don't know why, since it was highly disturbing. I put the box of cookies down on the counter and called the company that made the plates to order a replacement.  
However, when I dialed the number, I got a response that said, "Hello, you have reached Shinra Incorporated. If you would like to invest in one of the Midgar mako reactors, press 1- oh, shit! I'm sorry, it's just that I've worked so many companies now I can't keep them straight. Uh... let's see here..." I heard the lady on the other end of the line shuffling around. It sounded as if I had waken her up from sleeping on the job. "My first job was a secretary for Shinra, you see... ok, you have reached Esthar Dishes Incorporated, how may I help you?"  
"Uh... hi, I'd like to order a plate."  
"We'll send you the order form right away. Where do you live?"  
"Room 42c, Balamb Garden, Balamb, 13499," I answered.  
"Hold on... can you say that slower? I can't write very fast with a quill you know."  
"Why the hell are you writing with a quill? I thought Esthar was technologically advanced!"  
"I refuse to write with anything else! Now will you repeat your address?"  
Long story short, I finally got my order in for the replacement plate order form. By then everyone else had stacked up the dishes near the sink and started washing.  
"This is so damn tedious..." Booty Fatpants said.  
"Hey, I have an idea!" Chris Baty exclaimed. "WriBot! Come here!"  
A small, not-so-shiny robot hovered into the room making clicking noises. It had a ream of paper flowing in one end of it and out the other. "13624...13625... 13626... 13627...." it said very rapidly. It would seriously not stop counting, even for a second. It was scary.  
"WriBot, will you stop that infernal word counting and help me with these dishes?" Chris said to the WriBot.  
"WriBot must count words... must validate novel or else novelist will cry. WriBot no like Microsoft word, only read .txt files. 13683... 13684... 13685..."  
"WriBot! I am the webmaster thy God! Thou shalt obey no novelist but ME! Now help with these dishes."  
"WriBot help. WriBot no want to make webmaster angry. 1...2...3...4...5..." it said, picking up sporks and throwing them.  
"WriBot! You're supposed to wash the sporks, not count them!" he yelled.  
Once we had WriBot doing about half the work, we finally had a somewhat logical conversation. Chris Baty asked what I had been up to lately.  
"Well," I said, "I've been planning to have a sacrificial ritual for the Gods."  
"Oh really? What's the occasion?"  
"Odin got really mad at me over a certain phrase that I kept saying. So if I don't make a ritual sacrifice, I'm going to end up cursed."  
"How so?"  
Suddenly, there was a lighting storm. In the kitchen.  
"Speaking of kitchen, I once had sex in the kitchen!" Seifer said.  
"How the hell did you hear me narrate that?" I said, very afraid.  
"Oh, that billboard over there has your thoughts projected onto it..."  
"I see," I said. The next thing I knew, there was a big display of me and Rinoa having hot dirty sex on the Ragnarok. Oops. I guess I'm a bit of a porn bunny. Anyways, there was this lightning storm in the kitchen, and my thoughts stopped scrolling across the billboard. So this huge bolt of lightning shot right out of nowhere and hit me. It didn't hurt much, but it was as obnoxious as hell and messed up my hair. I ignored it and went back to washing dishes. Another bolt hit me, this one just for a few seconds.  
"Ok, who the fuck keeps casting Thundara?" I yelled. Another bolt hit me.  
"Not me, I'm not even junctioned right now," Zell said.  
"What the hell is Thundara?" Cthulhu asked. I smacked my hand against my forehead.  
"Haven't you listened to a word Quistis said in class?"  
"No, I was playing Final Fantasy XI the whole time. You should see my character, he's this level 30 elf and I was just recently on this quest in which I met a guy named Firion and we..."  
He rambled on as another lightning bolt hit me. "Who the hell keeps doing that?" I yelled.  
"IT WAS... I! QUEZACOTL!" a booming voice replied.  
"Ok, who the hell is junctioned right now? Come clean this instant!"  
"I AM NOT BEING JUNCTIONED. THIS IS JUST A WARNING: IF YOU DO NOT MAKE A RITUAL SACRIFICE TO THE GODS BY TOMATO AT MIDNIGHT, MANY PLAGUES WILL... PLAGUE BALAMB GARDEN! AND REMEMBER, IT MUST BE IN GOOD TASTE!"  
"I know!" Cthulhu said, picking up the box of cookies I had just bought, "We can sacrifice these cookies!"  
"No, it has to be in good taste," I said. "Besides, the Gods don't much appreciate human sacrifice these days."  
"Human..." Cthulhu said, looking very confused and studying the box. I felt really terrible for him because he was in the process of eating one of the cookies when I said that. "Whatever, I'll just put these aside for later. They may come in handy."  
"I know! I'll go find you a virgin!" Mr. B Natural yelled and ran out before I could remind him that this was supposed to be in good taste. I suppose that a virgin was traditionally good taste, but human sacrifices really weren't "in" these days. I wondered if maybe the Gods would prefer a DVD player, or Cthulhu's water-melon shaped phone...  
  
Chapter 15 In Which Squall Leonheart Continues to Annoy Serious Fans of Final Fantasy  
8 by Continuing to Narrate His Life  
  
As I was taking the elevator to my room (the one you DON'T see in Final Fantasy 8), I saw the same guy who was always in the elevator again.  
"What's wrong?" he asked. "You look kind of down..."  
I sighed. "It's nothing... just that if I don't make a ritual sacrifice that the Gods will accept by midnight tomato, I'll cause Balamb Garden to be plagued by... well, plagues."  
"Aw, that's rough. Hey, why don't you sacrifice a chicken? Then even if the Gods don't like it, you'll have the fun of seeing it run around with it's head cut off. In fact, I have a rubber chicken right here that you can sacrifice!" he said, pulling a rubber chicken out of his pocket. "The interesting thing about this chicken is that it doesn't squeak when you squeeze it, it squeaks as the air comes out of it. Let me demonstrate," he said, squeezing it really hard and making it scream really loud.  
"Thanks, but... no thanks," I said, stepping out of the elevator. "I think I need to find my own way through this."  
Of course I didn't have time to think when I got to my room because Cthulhu ran up to me holding his damn watermelon phone and said, "Hey, I'm gonna make a prank call! I can put it on speaker phone if you wanna hear it!"  
"Ok," I said, half-heartedly.  
He dialed a random number and on the other end of the line I heard an actual man, not a pre-recorded voice say, "Hello, you have reached Laguna Loire of Esthar."  
Cthulhu giggled a moment before saying in a really awful British accent, "'allo, Laguna, you old wanker! I was just wondering what color underwear you're wearing today!"  
"Excuse me, who is this?"  
"This is yo mama!" he said, changing to an Ebonics dialect. "And speaking of yo mama, yo mama so stupid, she thinks Sephiroth is a chick!"  
"Um-"  
"Ooh, ooh! I got another one! Ok, yo mama so stupid, she wonders how there can be more than one if it's FINAL Fantasy! Booya!"  
"If you don't mind, Mister um... whoever you are, I'm expecting a call from the president of Galbadia, and-" I felt sorry for the guy, he really sounded like he was stressed out and trying to be nice about having some idiot call him up and start telling "yo mama" jokes.  
"Hehehehe, that's a good excuse! I'll use that next time someone tells me I need to do my homework. Ooh, ooh! I have another one. Okay, yo mama is so stupid, she STILL doesn't realize that Aeris died! And, yo mama so stupid that she think dark knight Cecil and paladin Cecil are two different people! Booya!"  
I heard a second voice on the other end of the line saying, "Laguna, is this person bothering you?"  
"Yes, as a matter of fact he is. He keeps making bizarre claims about my mother and wasting my time."  
"Don't worry sir, I'll get right on it and track the call..."  
"Thank you, Kiros."  
We heard Kiros slightly more clearly saying, "I think you've wasted enough of the president's time now."  
"Oh SHIT!" Cthulhu yelled and hung up the phone. "How the hell was I supposed to know I just called the president of Esthar? Crap! He said he was gonna track the call... that means..." instead of actually finishing his statement, he turned on the TV.  
"This just in, Esthar's Most Wanted list has just gained a new offender... this boy!" the reporter said. A picture of Cthulhu appeared on the screen.  
"Oh SHIT!"  
"The boy has been described as a skinny boy of about fourteen, with black wavy hair, glasses, and a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his face. He is armed with a telephone and may be dangerous!" The reporter continued, ignoring the fact that in the background there was a huge dragon destroying the town. The dragon picked up in his enormous paws a young boy in an orange coat and squished him, making guts fly everywhere.  
"This just in also, Esthar is under attack from a red dragon, and witnessing destruction never before seen since the last lunar cry! Back to you, Carl Castle."  
Just as the female reporter shut up so he could talk, the dragon busted down the back wall of the studio, roaring loudly and knocking down lights and camera equipment. The TV went static and everything on the screen was sideways as the red dragon ate Carl Castle. I flicked off the TV, since I STILL had to think of an acceptable sacrifice for the Gods.  
  
Chapter 16 In which the author begins writing whilst wondering why Laguna Loire and Squall Leonheart have different last names if Laguna Loire is supposedly  
Squall Leonheart's father and wondering if Squall chose the last name Leonheart for himself after playing Final Fantasy II and deciding that he  
liked Lionheart the best, and hey, he wouldn't know his last name was  
really Loire if his father disappeared when he was young, right?  
  
Yes, thank you. Thank you very much for that... hem... brief introduction...  
I looked around my room for a sacrifice with which to please the Gods. There was my gunblade... my computer... a zillion gidgets and gadgets that actually belonged to Cthulhu... the ring I wore... Griever... the old guy who ran through my room after a squirrel, yelling "Get back here you... you squirrel with your bushy tail!"...  
As I was thinking, Mr. B Natural suddenly burst in holding a very familiar looking man who was tied up and gagged. "I have brought you your virgin!" he exclaimed.  
I looked for a minute at this so-called virgin he had brought to me. He had long, brown hair and very pale skin, but Japanese features. He was wearing an outfit that was rather over the top; sequined leather pants, a big frilly shirt, a dramatic red cape and a hat from the 18th century. I recognized him from my CD cover! This was no virgin, this was...  
"Gackt!" I yelled. "Oh my Gods, Gackt Camui? No way!" To pay me back for saying "Oh my Gods," Quezacotl hit me with another lightning bolt. I grabbed one of my Malice Mizer CDs from off the table and said excitedly, "Will you sign this?"  
Gackt didn't answer, since he was still bound and gagged. I solved the problem by cutting the ropes apart and taking the gag out of his mouth. "Gackt! I can't believe it, this is awesome!"  
"You... cannot sacrifice me," he said. "I am immortal!"  
"Gackt, Oh my Gods, I practically worshipped you when I saw your 'Miserable' video! You MUST sign this CD!" I said, jumping up and down like a little school girl. I got struck by lightning three times. Once for that "Oh my Gods," once for even THINKING of worshipping a mortal like Gackt, and once for pestering a celebrity. But I didn't care. Gackt was in my very own dorm room!  
"What's going on here? One minute I'm making a grand tour of Balamb, and the next some weirdo kidnaps me to use as a virgin sacrifice! You have to help me!" He said, writhing around dramatically in a very Gothic manner. It was like watching a Gackt video! "Wait! I've got it!" he exclaimed, his positively gorgeous eyes lighting up. "They can't make me a virgin sacrifice if I'm not a virgin!"  
With that, he threw me onto my bed and ripped my Psycho Bitch shirt off, along with my uniform jacket. Long story short, he was no longer a virgin by the time we were done, but it really makes me blush to talk about it.  
I know, you fan girls are going to kill me if I don't tell you all about what a GacktXSquall sex scene looks like. But remember: I am a professionally trained mercenary and will kill any swarm of fan girls who attempts an assassination. Besides, if you kill me then you'll never see what it looks like when I have sex with Gackt! So there! It was a dream come true to finally have sex with my idol.  
Having sex with my idol still didn't solve the problem of finding an acceptable sacrifice though. I still had quite a bit of thinking to do on that subject.  
"Hey, I know! You can sacrifice Jeff, Booty Fatpants' boyfriend!"  
"Dammit, Cthulhu, for the last time, I'm NOT making a human sacrifice!"  
"Jeff is a cabbage," Cthulhu explained.  
"Really now..." I said skeptically. "I think I'd better ask Booty Fatpants about that before I go ahead with this. I don't want to sacrifice a human by accident. Now what's Booty's phone number?" I asked, pulling out my cell phone. I couldn't stand that damn watermelon phone.  
"Oh my Gods! Put that thing down!" Gackt yelled, jumping at me and causing me to drop the cell phone. "Don't you know that cell phones will suck your soul out through your ear?"  
"Uh..."  
"Quick! Destroy the cell phone!" Cthulhu yelled.  
I could tell you how I responded, but I didn't respond right away. I was interrupted first, because a rabbit hopped in through the window, across the room, and then out the door. It was followed by 49,999 more rabbits. I shit you not. I wasn't kidding when I said a lot of random animals showed up in the dorms.  
"Shut up, you guys," I said, ignoring the rabbits. Bet you would have never predicted that from me.  
"I know! We can sacrifice the cell phone!" Cthulhu yelled, picking it up off the floor. Gackt knocked him over, making the phone go flying and land near the closet door.  
"May I remind you yet again, it must be in good taste," I said, walking over to pick up my cell phone. Scarcely had I placed my hand on it when Gackt jumped to the other side of the room, knocking the phone out of my hand again and making the closet door open. I heard loud music, like that from a party, as a conga line of 50,000 people walked out. I really didn't want to know what Cthulhu had been up to.  
"How about a virgin?" Cthulhu said, pointing to Gackt. I glared at him. "What?"  
"Gackt... why don't you sing for us?" I said. He immediately started singing "Vanilla" and didn't notice as I picked up the cell phone and dialed Booty Fatpants' number.  
"Hello, is Oscar Wilde there?" Booty Fatpants said when she picked up the phone.  
"No, here's not here right now, who is this?"  
Booty Fatpants laughed her ass off when I said that.  
"For crying out loud, Booty! Don't do that to me. Anyways, I had a question about Jeff. Who or what is Jeff exactly?"  
"He's my soul mate!" she said, sighing dreamily.  
"So... he's a guy?"  
"Yes! A guy cabbage! You should see him, he's so round and green and-"  
"Um, Booty? May I ask why you are dating a cabbage?"  
"I don't know; I can't explain it. I just met him at the Balamb public market one day, and it was love at first sight. You know, it can be really hard having a soul mate who's a cabbage like Jeff. But on the other hand, it definitely has it's advantages. Like did you know that cabbages will never leave the toilet seat up? In fact they never have to use the bathroom at all."  
"Uh... huh."  
"So one time I was watching Extreme Chocobo Racing on ESPN and Jeff-"  
"Um, Booty?"  
"Yes?"  
"Where does Jeff live?"  
"In my dorm room. It's room number 69, you can come right over and see him if you want."  
"No thanks, I'm enjoying a live performance by Gackt right now. I'll talk to you tomato, alright?"  
"GACKT? OH MY GODS, GACKT IS IN YOUR ROOM RIGHT NOW? AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" She screamed. My ear was ringing for a few minutes after that. "I'll be right over!" she yelled and hung up.  
  
Chapter 17  
In Which Squall Leonheart Meets a Beagle Named Fred  
  
"Hey..." I wondered out loud, "Why didn't Quezacotl zap her with lightning for saying 'Oh my Gods'?" When I said that, I got zapped. "Will you FUCK OFF?" I yelled, and got zapped again.  
As I was getting zapped, Captain Obvious entered the room. "Booty didn't get zapped by lightning for two very simple reasons," he explained. "One: she has not yet met her 'Oh my Gods' quota yet. You see, once you have said 'Oh my Gods' over 16377 times, you must make a sacrifice to the Gods to apologize for wasting their time or suffer the consequences. I'll have my dog Fred explain the second reason."  
A small beagle named Fred entered the room and said, "You see, you must be the one to make the sacrifice because... you are the main character."  
"Nonsense!" Gackt exclaimed. "Only I may be the main character!"  
"Sorry Gackt, but Mr. No Pants here is the main character this time."  
"I am too wearing pants!" I exclaimed. "Just not my pants!"  
"No you're not, you're wearing a kilt," Gackt said.  
"Look, the point here isn't what I'm wearing to cover my precious. What I want to know is what the hell you're doing in my room, Captain Obvious."  
"Simple: I heard from Booty Fatpants that Gackt was in your room, so I came to get an autograph!" He explained, pulling out a naked Gackt poster and a pen. "Would you mind-" before he could pop the question, my door suddenly fell in, totally busted, and a throng of people swarmed in, screaming, flashing cameras and making a mad rush for Gackt. Gackt screamed, grabbed my gunblade and tried to fight them off. However, he was clearly untrained and the gunblade was knocked out of his hand by an obsessive fan who shoved a poster in his face for him to autograph.  
"I'll save you Gackt!" I yelled gallantly, thinking I could reach for my gunblade, but then remembering that my right hand was still in a cast from that fucking cist operation. I resorted to plan B immediately, and jumped out the window with Gackt under one arm. We slid down the side of the building, bloody from all the glass and clinging to each other tightly and shrieking as several overly bold fans jumped out after us. We landed on a soft patch of grass, stood up like nothing had happened and ran around to the front of the building and in through the front door.  
"Hey, you're supposed to be in your room, ya know?" Raijin said as we were walking in.  
"LIGHTS OUT," Fujin added.  
"I REALLY don't have time for you two," I said, sighing and drawing my gunblade with my left hand. As I was about to make a pathetic swing at Raijin, a duck walked between us.  
"What the hell..." I said as another duck followed it, and another, and another... there was a line of ducks as far as the eye could see!  
"QUACK-ie! QUACK-ie! QUACK-ie! QUACK-ie! QUACK-ie! QUACK-ie!" they said in unison as they walked between us. It was like some sort of evil cult of ducks forming a secret society dedicated to ruining a sword fight.  
Raijin took a step forward, then screamed as several ducks bit his hand.  
"Fear not!" Gackt exclaimed, "For I have the legendary weapon, the most powerful, the ultimate....." he pulled it out and swung it around- "GARDEN GNOME!!!!!"  
"What the hell?" one of Gackt's Dears exclaimed as Gackt swung the screaming garden gnome around by the ankle.  
"It's a secret," Captain Obvious explained. "You must be a secret agent gardener to understand."  
"Secret agent gardener......?"  
"Sort of like a SeeD. Only secret agent gardeners specialize in the use of garden gnomes as weapons," Fred explained. "That's why Cid offers scholarships to Garden Gnome specialists."  
I slammed my head against the wall. It was just too many bad puns to take in the time span of five minutes. It was just... awful. I mean, it would have been one thing if they left it at the Garden Gnome thing. But that on top of secret agent gardener... I was going to kill Cid for calling the place Garden, thereby opening it up for people to make Garden Gnome jokes. But first I had to use the bathroom.  
The nice thing about wearing a kilt with nothing under it was that it made it incredibly easy to use the bathroom. I discovered a disturbing thing as I approached the urinals: one of the urinal cakes was broken. Everything else was just as it always was. Even the sign with Kermit the Frog that said, "Do not eat the urinal cakes" was perfectly intact. But I wondered, who would be disturbed enough to reach into the pissoire and crack apart the Scent-a-peed?  
Much to my chagrin, I found that there was only pink toilet paper in the men's room.  
Oh, sorry, you must be wondering why I was inspecting the toilet paper. I had suddenly gotten a brilliant idea, you see, as soon as I stopped wondering about the broken urinal cake. I grabbed the very pale pink toilet paper and took a big risk stepping out into the hall with it.  
"Stand back!" I yelled to Raijin and Fujin, "Or I will mummify you with toilet paper!"  
"Um... Squall?"  
"... Yes?"  
"You can't get to them because of the ducks, remember?" Captain Obvious said.  
"Oh, right," I said, throwing the roll of toilet paper aside. Cthulhu picked it up and said, "Yoink!"  
"Cthulhu, what are you doing with-" He started wrapping it around Booty Fatpants and demanding that she give up Jeff, lest he mummify her with toilet paper. "....that...."  
"No! Never! I could never forgive myself if I allowed you to take Jeff from me!" she exclaimed as he wrapped the pink toilet paper around her. It was pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Instead of killing Cid, I decided to tell him he damn well better raise his standards, because some of these cadets were sure idiots...  
Cthulhu continued to wrap her in toilet paper until she suffocated, but she still wouldn't surrender Jeff. Her last words were, "I shall love thee forever, Jeff! O, I am slain!"  
However, this was a convenient opportunity for me to run to room 69 and steal Jeff the Cabbage, then perform my sacrifice. I told everyone that they were invited to see it, too, and everyone cheered.  
  
Chapter 18  
In Which Squall Leonheart Lights a Yellow Lava Lamp  
  
I began the ritual by, of course, summoning the four elements. Half the school was assembled on the front lawn of Balamb Garden to observe my sacred cabbage sacrifice, which really made me wonder about their social lives. Anyways, we were all standing around in a big circle.  
"I summon thee, air," I said as I lit a yellow lava lamp. You see, there were regulations against lighting candles on the lawn, so we had five magically charged lava lamps that we used to call the four elements. One was yellow, one was red, one was blue, one was white, and one was green. They were very sacred lava lamps, of course.  
"I summon thee, fire," Seifer said, facing south and solemnly lighting the red lava lamp. The circle was so ridiculously huge that we had to have four different people summon the elements.  
"I summon thee, water," Quistis chanted, lighting the blue lava lamp and facing west. Suddenly, Cthulhu started to laugh uncontrollably.  
"What id your problem?" Chris Baty asked.  
"Nothing... I was just thinking about the dares thread on NaNoWriMo..."  
"I summon thee, earth," Zell said and he tried to turn on the green lava lamp, but then had to change the batteries. The entire time, he was apologizing to the rest of us for holding up the ritual sacrifice of Jeff the Cabbage.  
Cid stood in the center, holding a white lava lamp over his head and summoning the element of spirit as he flicked the switch to turn it on.  
Victoria recited the "Charge of the Goddess" and Vickie recited the Wiccan Creed. Already they were getting carried away with this. Next Gackt got up and sang a tribute to Jeff the Cabbage, who was about to make a long journey up to the Gods, who would no doubt enjoy eating him, if Booty Fatpants didn't stop them.  
I started to strap Jeff the Cabbage down to an altar using duct tape, but suddenly Quistis started crying.  
"For gosh sake, Quistis, it's a fucking cabbage! Don't get so emotional!" Seifer said.  
"It's not that cabbage," she sobbed, "It's the duct tape! That's the roll someone stole from my room last semester." She pulled out a delicate lace handkerchief and wiped her tears. "I can't believe my duct tape has made it to a magically charged circle! I'm so proud of it!"  
"Calm down, Quistis, this will all be over soon," one of her groupies said, hugging her.  
I pulled out my gunblade and held it straight up in the air over Jeff the Cabbage. At that point, Gackt sang another tribute to Jeff the Cabbage, focusing this time on how he was soon to be re-united with Booty Fatpants. I figured I might as well invite people to share their final thoughts, and at that point Filthy Bear stepped into the middle of the hallowed circle.  
"I do not remember much about Jeff the Cabbage besides that he dated my very dear and deceased friend, Booty Fatpants. She called me 'Filthy Bear'. In fact, many of you call me Filthy Bear, as that is the name that my mother and father gave me many moons ago-"  
"Will you cut to the point already? I need to make this sacrifice by midnight or we'll all be plagued!"  
"My point is, I would like to ask each and every one of the people gathered here a very simple question: why the hell is my name Filthy Bear? Can anyone explain that?" He looked around at the assembly, waiting for someone to step forward. Finally, a bright red wolf of some sort with a comb in his hair stepped forward. I know I contemplate this a lot, but I really wondered why Cid let some of these... things into his school.  
"I can explain all, Filthy Bear," he said. "Your name has a much deeper meaning than just what it sounds like. Filth, you see, comes in many forms. There is the kind of filth you see on TV. There is filth in landfills. And there is the good kind of filth," he said, scooping up a pile of dirt in one of his paws. "The filth that is all around us. The filth of the earth. The filth that causes plants to grow, the filth that all things become when they die. The filth that is the essence of all of us.  
"And combined with the symbol of the bear, filth is a very powerful thing. You see, not only are you the very essence of the planet, you are also the brave warrior, Filthy Bear!"  
Everyone cheered except for a guy with ugly yellow hair who said, "And here I thought that life stream was the essence of the planet..."  
  
Chapter 19  
In Which Squall Leonheart Uses a Gunblade in His Left Hand  
  
After Filthy Bear and the red thing had taken their places in the circle, I once again raised my gunblade and prepared to cut Jeff the Cabbage in half.  
As I was lowering it slowly and ceremoniously, praying to the Gods, the weird wolf thingy ran into the middle of the circle and yelled for me to stop.  
"Now what?" I said, getting really tired of this ritual sacrifice thing.  
"We all know that no ritual sacrifice can possibly be accepted unless we first dance around a bonfire naked with wolves!"  
"Um, I don't know what religion you are but----" before I could finish, people were cutting their way out of the magically charged circle. It was sort of amusing to see everyone's array of ceremonial weapons that they used to cut through the shield so that they could gather fire wood for a bonfire. They all piled it up next to the altar I had set up, even though they KNEW that this thing was a hippie who was high on dope.  
Three guesses what they did next. Yeah, that's right, everyone got naked and started dancing around to Gackt's music, and several wolves joined us.  
I thought it was sickening. And yet I could not resist the lure of taking my clothes off, the temptation of dancing to Gackt's music. So I stripped off my clothes and danced around the fire like a crazy hippy, moving to the hypnotic voice of Gackt.  
Five minutes before midnight, I heard an alarm clock go off. It was one that played "Under the Sea" and then said, "Wake up! Wake up!". I had bought it at a Korean shop one time. It was here because I had to be sure to make the sacrifice before midnight.  
"The clocks are attacking me!" Filthy Bear yelled, running straight out of the circle and hiding in the woods naked. Several other people followed him.  
"No!" I exclaimed. "It is the appointed time! Behold, the last moments of Jeff the Cabbage!" I said as I brought the gunblade down and cut Jeff the Cabbage into two perfect halves. One half I threw into the large bonfire as an offering to the Gods and the other half I ate right there and then. It was sort of weird eating raw cabbage, but hey, part of making a sacrifice was to share in the feast with the Gods. As I brought my half of Jeff the Cabbage to my mouth and took a big bite out of him, I heard a loud rumbling and the footsteps of giants. I froze with a bite nearly taken out of Jeff the Cabbage.  
"Fi... fi... fo... fef! I smell the blood of Jeff!" a deep woman's voice declared. I looked up and saw a ten-foot-tall cabbage wearing a headband and holding a shuriken. She was obviously a she trying to be a he. Behind her was an entire herd of similar lesbian ninja cabbages.  
I finished taking a bite out of Jeff. Gods, what a delicious cabbage! It was unlike any cabbage I had ever tasted before. It was... divine! Certainly this was an acceptable sacrifice to the Gods. "It's a fucking cabbage! It doesn't have blood!" I yelled, pulling out my gunblade again.  
"Oh, is that so?" the husky female cabbage said. "How would you like it if I cut you in half and took a bite out of you?"  
The man-eating, giant, lesbian ninja cabbages closed in on me. I swung at one with my gunblade, but was so uncoordinated with my left hand that I only managed to drop my gunblade. The lesbian ninja cabbages wounded me with their shurikens and closed in on me, preparing to cut me in half and eat me. As I cowered in fear, a bright light suddenly appeared in the sky, accompanied by an ecstatic choir of voices singing in Latin.  
"Fithos... Ludosec..."  
I saw a man wearing very early medieval garb come down from the sky. He looked to be about my age, but far bigger and stronger. He unsheathed a gigantic sword and held it towards the cabbages. "Step back!" He declared. "Or thou shalt taste the blade of my sword, Nothung!"  
The leader of the lesbian ninja cabbages laughed. "I eat legendary heroes for breakfast!"  
"Siegfried!" I said. "You've come to save me! And after all those times I annoyed the hell out of your father!"  
"Think nothing of it," Siegfried answered. "Jeff was a very yummy cabbage, after all..."  
"And you look like a very yummy legendary hero! Mwahahaha!" The lesbian ninja cabbage chuckled.  
"Soon, thou shalt be a dead cabbage as well!" Siegfried said, running fearlessly towards the lesbian ninja cabbage with Nothung aimed for her heart. The tension heightened as the overture to act II of Die Walkurie played. Siegfried and the leader of the man-eating cabbages stared each other down, walking circles around each other and just waiting for the other to make a move. The lesbian cabbage swung her Masamune at Siegfried, but he blocked it with Nothung.  
"Ha! Thou art a pathetic excuse for a killer cabbage!" he exclaimed as he parried her blows.  
"I'm going to eat you like a human!"  
"And I shall eat you like a dragon's heart!"  
Wagner's little orchestra in the sky was going nuts, pulling all the stops and playing their dramatic music loudly for all to hear as Siegfried struggled through the epic fight. Maria the opera singer began to sing the famous Valkyrie song as Siegfried swung Nothung at the lesbian ninja cabbage.  
Not wanting to cut the music off, Siegfried stalled for a minute. He continued to take the defensive as he waited for Maria to finish singing. Then at last, he plunged Nothung into the cabbages, making all the other giant cabbages run away in fear.  
"Siegfried! You saved my life!" I exclaimed, falling to my knees. "How can I ever repay you?"  
"Simple," Siegfried said. "Just don't be a jack ass. And don't listen to anything that fundies try to tell you!"  
  
Chapter 20  
In Which Squall Leonheart Drives into Balamb City for the Weekend  
  
On Saturday morning I decided to drive in to Balamb and do some shopping. You see, I had again borrowed several pairs of pants from another dorm room, and the popular clique beat the crap out of me for stealing their pants again. At that point I decided it was high time I shoplifted from the Salvation Army so I could be part of the popular clique.  
My car was very old, but I had bought it from a bum, after all. I liked it because it still worked some times. I hated it because it was pink, it was old, and the hood was jammed shut. I had once taken it to a mechanic to fix it, and he accidentally stuck the hood shut by leaving his wrench in there. I also liked it because the horn played "Home on the Range" when I honked it, and that was sort of nifty. So it was a decent enough car for just a quick drive into Balamb, if I could get it running to begin with.  
That morning, it was not working. I tried everything, and it just would not move. So I firmly resolved to open it any way possible, which would be quite difficult since I could only use one hand. I wished I had never gotten that cist removed.  
My gunblade was with me, obviously, since I had it with me at all times. Next to my precious, that was my most valued possession. So I grabbed it in my left hand and started to cut around the opening to the trunk, eventually cutting it enough to peel back the metal and examine the engine. There was just one little wire that had to be re-connected to get it moving, but then I had trouble getting the hood closed again.  
I was trying as hard as I could to single-handedly slam it down when Cthulhu came running into the parking lot with a big-ass packet in his hand.  
"Squall! We finally got the order form to replace the plate!" he said, handing me the form.  
"Why is it ten pages long?" I asked.  
"Oh, because they need a lot of information in order to replace it."  
"Alright, might as well fill it out before I go," I said, sitting down on the bumpy, messed up hood of the car and pulling out a pen.  
First it asked for my name, address, phone number, e-mail address, social security number, occupation and employer or high school GPA, SAT and ACT scores, class rank, the names and addresses of my parents/guardian, and then a question about what my goals and aspirations were.  
"What the hell?" I said. "Half this stuff doesn't even apply! And it has nothing to do with replacing the plate..."  
The next page actually had questions about the plate, but it was insane.  
"What's wrong, Squall?" Cthulhu said.  
"These questions... like question one. Did the plate A. crack, B. shatter, C. break, D. buckle."  
"I'd say it shattered, wouldn't you?"  
"Question two: what sound did it make when it shattered...."  
And it went on and on like that. It asked if I fell, got knocked over, dropped the plate, or if something else happened. It asked what was on the plate when it broke, what color the plate was, what it was made out of, where I was geographically when the plate broke, what sort of establishment it was broken in, what I did with the remains of the plate, how long I had owned the plate for, how I ordered the original plate, and so on. Then there was an essay question: Describe how the plate broke during your high school years and how it affected your goals and/or your outlook on life.  
"WHAT THE FUCK?" I yelled when I saw the essay question. One of the things I liked best about Garden was that I didn't have to fill out applications for college admission or for scholarships. And here I was writing a bull crap essay for a fucking PLATE!!!!! I congratulated myself on being guaranteed a decent job out of high school though. At least I would never have to fill out an application like that again. It was really amazing how I stayed at Balamb Garden without ever paying anything or doing diddly squat besides playing with a gunblade. I was really proud of what a bum I was.  
As I was getting into the car, Cthulhu asked where I was going.  
"Gonna go buy some second-hand pants at Salvation Army. Wanna come?"  
"Woah, you're gonna shop THERE? That's where all the popular kids shop!"  
Cthulhu was a bit naive. He didn't realize that the popular kids didn't actually shop there, they stole stuff there. But I didn't bother pointing that out to him.  
"That's right, if I'm suddenly the most popular kid in the whole damn school you'll know why!" I said, revving up the engine. Did I mention I had a very noisy car?  
"Can I come too?" Cthulhu asked, trying way to hard to sound cool.  
I shrugged. "Sure, maybe you can replace the pants you lost and stop borrowing crappy pants from the lost-and-found."  
"Heh... not like you've worn any decent pants for a while, either."  
"I'm not the one wearing fluorescent green velvet stretch pants," I pointed out.  
"Hey, don't dis the pants! These things are fucking nifty! I love my pants! Besides, you look pretty gay with those tight jeans."  
"Look, just shut up," I said, pulling out of the parking lot a bit too quickly. As I drove by Quistis, her skirt flew up from the breeze created by my car. I slowed down and got control a little more as we drove towards the expressway.  
  
Chapter 21  
In Which Squall Leonheart Listens to the Radio  
  
You know what was really cheesy about the way I was driving? Everything. There was no roof on the car, so my hair sort of fluttered in the breeze, but it was a 30 degree day. I wore sun glasses just for the hell of it, turned up the radio real loud, then relaxed and rested my left arm on the side of the car.  
"Um... Squall?"  
"Yeah?"  
"You need to use at least one hand to drive."  
"Oh SHIT!" I yelled, quickly gripping the steering wheel. Gods dammit, that's the last time I ever have an operation! That cast was a million times more obnoxious than the cist itself. But at least I was still the cat's ass with my nifty sun glasses... well, maybe they weren't that nifty and I bought them real cheap ten years ago, but that's not the point. Because you see, I was listening to a very nifty radio station at least.  
Whenever I sang my song,  
On the stage, on my own...  
Whenever I said my words  
Wishing they would be heard  
I saw you smiling at me  
Was it real or just my fantasy?  
You'll always be there in the corner  
Of this tiny little bar....  
I loved the song "Eyes on Me". I always had the '80s station on so I could hear it now and then, since the more up-to-date stations didn't play it any more. Cthulhu thought I was a real dork for listening to the '80s station, but who the hell cares what he thought?  
"Squall! This whole thing is too '80s! I can't stand it!"  
"What's wrong with the '80s?"  
My last night here with you  
Same old songs, just once more  
My last night here with you  
Maybe yes, maybe no  
I kinda liked it your way  
How you shyly placed your eyes on me  
Did you ever know  
That I had mine on you...  
"This looks awful! The pink '80s car, the awful sun glasses, you wearing those '80s pants with that leather jacket-"  
"Look, just shut up. I'm listening to the radio."  
"...That was Julia Heartilly with 'Eyes on Me'," the DJ said. "Up next, the top ten remixes of '80s video game music. Here's 'Crystal Rave' by Nines..."  
"Dammit Squall, can we change the damn station?"  
"NO!!!" I yelled, turning up the 'Crystal Rave' music louder. As I drove by a teenage boy and girl who were walking together, they stared at me like I was really weird.  
"Oh my gosh, I heard that music in the 8 bit Theatre video," the boy said to the girl.  
"Squall! People are starting to stare at us! Do you have to drive a pink car?"  
"It's the only one I could afford."  
"Now for the Balamb traffic report. There's been a tractor trailer crash on I-180, and the road is blocked by a pile of bananas..."  
"Squall, turn the radio down!"  
"I can't, I need at least one hand available to steer!"  
"Dammit, let me drive then."  
"NO!"  
"... Bud Light Avenue is currently closed..."  
We saw a hitch hiker standing by the road with a small refrigerator.  
"Hey Squall, let's pick up that weird guy!"  
"No."  
"Come on, don't you wonder why he has a refrigerator with him?"  
"No. Shut up and let me drive."  
"I'm sure he'd greatly appreciate it."  
"Well, we already passed him, so forget it." I really wished I hadn't let Cthulhu come along. This was supposed to be my little trip to shop lift a pair of pants. Was that really such a crime for me to go off for one afternoon and steal a--- never mind.  
As I got closer to Balamb, I took a small back road. I hated the congested traffic that went between the city and the suburbs. That was the trouble with living in a desirable place like Balamb: too many people around. But at least I had lived here long enough to know about the long- cut. There were absolutely no other cars around, and no sound but my loud- ass radio.  
There was a really weird commercial on. One guy said, "This is good."  
And the other said, "But is it good enough to poop on?"  
"Oh yes, it's definitely good enough to poop on!"  
"Squall, if you don't change the station right now-"  
"Hold on, they're about to play another song!" I said. Sure enough, they played "Turning Japanese."  
As I was driving along, something hit me in the face. I don't know what it was, but some little thing came flying and hit me in the eye. I screamed and covered my eye.  
"SQUALL!!!!!!!" Cthulhu yelled as the car suddenly swerved.  
"Sorry!" I said, putting my hand back on the wheel, even though my eye was still watering. Other than that, the drive to Balamb was rather uneventful.  
  
Chapter 22  
Confessions of a Cross-Dressing Kleptomaniac  
  
I was driving towards the Salvation Army store when Cthulhu noticed a little sidewalk cafe and suggested we have lunch there.  
"Nah, let's shop for a while first," I said.  
"Come on, we can just grab a quick snack. Or we can go somewhere else, like that pizza place over there."  
"I'm not really in the mood for a restaurant..." I didn't really like restaurants all that much. I just found them so boring; you walk in and you sit there forever until they bring you your order. Plus the food was never all that different from what I normally had at school, even if it was better prepared. What I really liked was when I went in a friend's room and they had snacks all over the place. That was great because there was no waiting in line or waiting for the damn waiter to get back.  
"Well what do you suggest?"  
"I dunno, I've got some pistachios in the glove compartment if you want some. There's a cookie in there too, but it's been in there since I bought the car."  
"That settles it. We're going to a restaurant."  
"No way, if I can survive on snacks for a few hours so can you."  
"We are going-" he grabbed the wheel and steered the car back around, shoving me against the car door--- "to the sidewalk cafe!"  
"Fine," I sighed.  
As we were driving, Cthulhu noticed a small red jawbreaker on the seat.  
"This must be what hit you in the eye..." he said as we were pulling up to the cafe.  
Although I wasn't crazy about the idea, I have to admit that Cthulhu had at least made a good selection for where to have lunch together. We sat in the back, where we had a nice view of the ocean in the distance. I ordered some nachos, and everything went normally until I saw a little macaque jumping up and down on one of the tables and screeching.  
"What the hell!" I exclaimed as it came bounding towards me with great agility. I tried to avoid it, but the macaque knocked me over, nachos and all. The next thing I knew my shirt was covered in cheese and the macaque was screeching and jumping up and down excitedly, crushing the chips into dust. "Oh, damn..." I said as I started to get up.  
"Here's a napkin," Cthulhu said. One napkin wasn't nearly enough to wipe up that mess. The small, furry macaque jumped on my back and knocked me over a second time. I wrestled with it for a moment, then picked it up, held it over my head for a second, and threw it over the railing and down a small hill. It bounded right back up and perched on the railing, screeching loudly. I stormed inside to demand a refund and more nachos. The macaque grinned at me as I was walking in.  
"Excuse me," I said to one of the waiters, "I was just knocked over by a macaque and would like to request a refund."  
The waiter laughed. "A macaque, huh? Or was it a baboon?"  
"It was certainly a macaque. You have to believe me!"  
"Don't be crazy, you know macaques don't live around here."  
"It's true! Why won't you believe me?"  
"Your story makes no sense."  
"It's true! How the hell do you think I got cheese all over my shirt? That damn macaque knocked me face-first onto the pavement! If you don't believe me, come outside and I'll show you the macaque."  
The waiter reluctantly followed me outside and of course the macaque was no longer there.  
"It ran away two minutes ago," Cthulhu said.  
"Oh for crying out loud... let's just get to the store already."  
The Salvation Army was just a short drive down Guinness Road from the sidewalk cafe. Right next to it was a store that was painted purple called The Velvety Touch Adult Lingerie and Video Store. Cthulhu giggled about it like a little school girl.  
We passed a doughnut store and saw overheard two cops talking.  
"So then she asks me, is that a gun or are you just happy to see me? She looked kinda disappointed when I said it was a gun and flashed her my badge..."  
We browsed around and I purposely tried to lose him by having him go in the changing room while I looked at the pants. I couldn't find any that were similar at all to my black leather pants, since absolutely nothing there was in style. All the pants were out-dated styles from the very early nineties at the latest, and they were either tacky as hell or just plain worn out. I found one pair that was like my regular uniform pants; just plain navy blue dress pants, and they were my size. I took them off the hanger, rolled them up to a size that was fairly inconspicuous, and started to walk out of the store while Cthulhu was still in the changing room. Little did I know he would emerge from the changing room a second later with an armload of pants that he wanted to buy.  
"Done enough browsing yet?" he asked me.  
"Yeah," I said, heading for the door and keeping as much distance between us as I could."  
"I'm ready to pay for this stuff too. Come on."  
I purposely walked very slowly so that I was behind him when he approached the cash register and plopped his stash of crappy pants down on the counter. I snuck around behind a rack of clothes, making my way slowly to the door with the pants. My heart was pounding, and this was utterly stupid because the pants would have only cost three GP if I had paid for them. Still, I had to go through with this if I wanted to be cool and get the popular kids to stop beating me up all the time.  
I made it to the door. I was one step away from getting a free pair of pants when Cthulhu said loudly, "Hey Squall, weren't you going to buy those pants?"  
The cashier looked at me suspiciously.  
"You FUCK NUT!!!!!" I yelled, turning red with embarrassment and anger. "You RUINED it!"  
"Squall, what the hell are you doing?"  
"I was going to pay for them!" I lied, screaming at him. While we were arguing, the cashier picked up the phone.  
"Bull shit, that's why you're sneaking out like that!"  
"You fuck nut!" I yelled again, running out the door with the pants. I saw a couple of security guards running through the store after me, with some sort of robotic police dogs.  
"SHIT!!!!!!!!" I yelled, trying to start my car. It would not start. I tried for a second, then jumped out the other side of the car into the street, since the security guards were so close behind me. I didn't even open the door; I jumped over it. A huge truck drove past me, just inches from where I stood. I started to run desperately down the road, holding the pants, but the robotic dogs were close behind.  
  
Chapter 23 In Which Squall Leonheart Drives a Random Car That Doesn't Even Belong to  
Him  
  
Suddenly, one of the dogs froze. The security guards stopped to examine it.  
"He's malfunctioning!" one of them explained.  
"He's mal-what?"  
"Malfunctioning. Preston the Cyber dog."  
"Hmm... perhaps we can make some quick repairs."  
"Not now! That thief is getting away!"  
I was panting and out of breath when I saw the most wondrous thing ever: a shiny, new blue car pulled around the corner. No one was driving it, it just showed up on it's own. It had a leather interior and was playing my favorite station. It was open, like my other car, but it looked good and had a nice turquoise color. I jumped in and drove away in it, but was followed by a cop car.  
I stepped on the gas, ramming right through a red light and causing a car crash to occur behind me. The police drove right up on the curb of the sidewalk and around the wreck, not losing even an inch on me. I turned sharply into the McDonald's drive-thru and sped around the entire building in the time it took for the person to say, "Welcome to McDonald's, may I help you?" She looked very confused when I sped past the window, pursued by the police car.  
I was driving too fast to stop when I suddenly saw a big brick wall in front of me. "SHIT!!!!!!" I yelled, trying to turn around, to slam down on the brakes, anything to avoid hitting that wall. As the car flew towards the wall with incredible speed, I grabbed the lever next to the seat and held on for dear life, but only managed in flying off the handle.  
I smacked into the wall, with my arms and legs out, and flew through so quickly that I went right through and left a hole in the wall shaped like me. Not only that, I flew through a series of walls, making the same exact hole in all of them. The police ran after me, crawling through the holes as I finally began to lose speed and nearly landed on a hard wood surface.  
Instead of actually falling on the floor, I knocked into a man who was wearing the uniform of a navy captain. When I looked up, I saw a bright light on me, a set behind me, and a bunch of other guys in sailor costumes dancing around. A second later I realized that I had landed in the middle of a production of H.M.S. Pinafore. I knew for sure because the music was playing.  
Nervously, I stood up, brushed myself off and began to sing:  
  
"I am the Captain of the Pinafore!"  
  
"And a right good captain, too!" the other actors sang back.  
"You're very, very good, And be it understood, I command a right good crew,"  
  
As I was singing, the police who were chasing me crawled through the hole I had made in the wall.  
  
"We're very, very good, And be it understood, He commands a right good crew."  
  
"Though related to a peer, I can hand, reef, and steer, And ship a selvagee; I am never known to quail At the furry of a gale, And I'm never, never sick at sea!"  
  
"What, never?" Rather than ruin the musical, the police started singing along with the choir.  
  
"No, never!" I was shocked that I was giving such a good performance, since I had never sung in front of an audience before. However, I happened to like the soundtrack to the H.M.S. Pinafore, so I knew all the lyrics to this song.  
  
"What, never?"  
  
"Hardly ever!"  
  
"He's hardly ever sick at sea! Then give three cheers, and one cheer more, For the hardy Captain of the Pinafore! Then give three cheers, and one cheer more, For the Captain of the Pinafore!"  
Everyone danced around gaily, except for me. Singing that song was embarrassment enough for one day. Instead, I tried to slowly work my way off the stage. The music stopped just as I was about to slip behind the curtain and run away, and the audience started cheering loudly. I gave a quick bow before running back stage, followed by the police.  
They had me cornered back there. I backed away towards the wall as they said, "Drop the pants!"  
Since I was stuck, I started to unzip my jeans, wondering why they wanted to see my precious.  
"What the hell are you doing?"  
"You said to drop my pants."  
"I meant the ones you were stealing."  
"I have no pants!" I said, holding my arms out so that they could see I wasn't holding anything. "What makes you think I was stealing pants?"  
One of them picked the pants up off the floor and smirked as he said, "This is one clue."  
"How do you know those aren't part of someone's costume?"  
"Do these look like 19th century pants to you?" he asked, stepping closer.  
"How the hell should I know?" I said angrily as he pulled a pair of handcuffs off of his belt. I had honestly thought I would get away with this, too...  
"Nice try though," he said, snapping the handcuffs around my wrists. "Come on..."  
  
Chapter 24  
In Which Squall Leonheart Makes a Phone Call to Cid  
  
Mind you, I wasn't completely stupid. Maybe I was stupid under the influence of the trend to steal clothes from second-hand stores, but I wasn't a total moron. If I had known at the time that my father was the president of Esthar, I would have called him right away to bail me out. But at the time, I didn't know I was related to Laguna, so I stalled for a moment trying to decide who to call. I only had a few numbers that I knew: Booty Fatpants, my own room, Seifer, several pizza delivery places, and the number for Cid's office. If it had been a week day, I would have immediately called Cid's number and begged him to pay the bail for me. But I wondered if he would be there on a Saturday and whether it was worth spending my only phone call trying to reach him.  
I didn't have any better ideas, so I hesitantly dialed the number for Cid's office. The phone rang three times, which made me nervous, but finally I heard him say, "Hello, you have reached the number for Cid Kramer. How may I help you?"  
"Cid? Hey, this is Squall."  
"Wow, don't usually get any calls from you! What's up?"  
I hesitated for a second. He wasn't really family, after all, and there was no guarantee that this was going to work. But I had no choice. "I... I need your help with something."  
"What is it?"  
"I... um..."  
"Well?"  
"I got caught stealing a pair of pants from the Salvation Army," I said quickly.  
I heard laughter on the other end of the line. "You? Making a risky move?"  
"Cid, you have to listen to me-"  
He kept laughing and said, "You're killing me, Squall!"  
"Listen to me! I'm at the police station right now. I need you to get here as soon as you can--- stop laughing at me! I'm not making this up!"  
"Did Zell ask you to make a prank call?"  
"No! I'm not making this up! Now you listen to me right now, because I can't make any more calls! I need you to get over here right this instant and pay the bail, alright?"  
"Squall, since when did you-"  
"Just shut up and get over here!" I begged him. "I'm not joking around, I tried to shoplift and--- look, just get over here, ok?"  
"Alright, alright, I'll bail you out," he said at last. Took long enough. I suppose he had his reasons for believing that I was bull shitting him. I was never one for breaking laws, or even minor rules. From a young age, I had been good about doing what I was told and staying out of trouble. Never before had I given in to the pressure to just once be rebellious, and Cid knew that. That's why he had laughed his ass off when I told him I got caught shop lifting a freakin' pair of pants. He thought I was perfect and obedient, and the thought of stealing couldn't even enter my mind.  
I waited for him nervously, wondering if he would come at all. It was a bit of a drive from Balamb Garden, and the road was busy, but all the same I worried that he still thought I was kidding him. Then I told myself, he can't think that. He also knew that I didn't normally kid around or make prank calls. In fact, I didn't talk or call people very much at all. So he knew that it would have to be serious for me to call him... but he had laughed at me over the phone and all...  
After waiting for about forty five minutes, I finally found out that Cid was there and he had paid the bail.  
As the two of us were walking towards each other, we heard this music start playing. I stopped abruptly and said, "Alright, the invisible violinists can stop now! And stop complaining that you aren't paid enough!"  
The music cut off as soon as I said that.  
"Squall, you ass! I like that music."  
"Sorry... alright, resume playing." They started in again with the emotional music... if you have the soundtrack to Final Fantasy 8, it's the track called "The Oath". Anyways... "It really is cheesy though."  
"Get used to it. Invisible musicians love guys like you."  
"Uh... huh... Let's just go," I said, heading for the door.  
"You know, you have a lot of explaining to do," he said as we were getting into the car.  
"I know."  
"You know, I have no idea why I put up with you..."  
"Because I'm one of the only gunblade specialists?"  
"I guess that would be it. But you know, you're the last person I would picture shoplifting..."  
"Well, it's sort of a long story."  
"Go ahead."  
"Well, Cthulhu mailed my pants to Galbadia, so I borrowed some from a random room, and then it turns out I borrowed them from one of the popular kids, so then I found out that if I ever wanted to be popular, I would have to steal clothes from the store-"  
"So you were trying to be popular, huh? I once threw a hand grenade into a room of nuns, but I don't much like to talk about it."  
At least he didn't get caught doing that, I thought. I wondered if it was possible for the situation to get any stupider. In fact, I probably wouldn't have gotten in trouble if it had just been the pants. It was the car chase that really screwed me over...  
  
Chapter 25  
The Pastry  
  
As soon as I got back to Garden, I decided to go tell the popular clique about how I had stolen a pair of pants from the Salvation Army. I was only seconds away from popularity, I thought.  
As I got in the elevator, I overheard Elevator Guy talking to a girl and saying, "Okay, but I don't really see how that's relevant. I mean, the chocolate was one thing, but then that tractor-trailer crashed on I-80, and a thousand bananas spilled onto the highway. That can't be a coincidence--- Hey Squall, what's up?"  
"The ground," I said sarcastically. They both laughed their asses off. I was hoping that the popular clique would be in their usual hang-out place: room 210. They liked the funky microwave as much as anyone did.  
When I walked in, I laughed my ass off. They were all wearing peacock feathers on their butts and microwaving rodents. I have no idea why. But when I walked in, they were looking entranced as a mouse spun around in the microwave.  
"Hey, guys," I said in a seductive tone and trying to look cool.  
"What do you want, you dork?" One of them said, glaring at me.  
"I did it," I said.  
"Did what?"  
"I stole a pair of pants from the Salvation Army, just like you guys! So, like, what do you have to say to THAT? Huh?"  
The guy rolled his eyes. "This is like, sooooo three hours ago!"  
"Yeah, the hot thing now is peacock feathers!" Another guy said, shaking his ass to show off his peacock feathers.  
"They're great for scaring away predators!"  
"No they're not," I said. "That's not scary, that's just the stupidest thing I've ever seen!"  
They started to surround me, glaring evilly.  
"I mean... I need to go now..." I said, slipping out of the room and running into the elevator. Elevator Guy was still in there.  
"You know what I think?" he said.  
"What?"  
"I think Chip is the lovechild of Mrs. Potts and the Beast," he said in all seriousness.  
"What the hell-"  
"You know? Chip the little cup?"  
"How is this relevant to riding in the elevator?" I asked.  
"You're a bright guy, I just wanted to know your opinion on this Chip thing."  
"It's a fucking movie, why the hell should I care?"  
"Because it's a very controversial issue, and I insist that the Beast had sex with Mrs. Potts!"  
"No way, he wouldn't have sex with a tea pot! That's just... disgusting."  
"Well haven't you ever had sex with a tea pot?"  
"No! I'm not that disturbed! Ok, maybe I've had sex with inanimate objects before, but never a fucking tea pot!" One incident in particular came to mind.  
It was late one night and I had been looking at a Play Boy magazine when I had a really wild idea: I poked a hole in my mattress in order to... please my precious. And it was good. I mean, sure it was like fucking a mattress, but for inanimate object sex, that was pretty damn good. Then I encountered a little problem: my precious was stuck in the mattress. I repeatedly tried to pull myself out, but it was stuck much too hard- no pun intended. I finally had to call my room mate in to help me extricate my precious from the mattress. It was awful.  
"You should try it some time."  
"Elevator Guy, that's disgusting!" I said. "You know what? I'm getting off now. It's been nice talking to you and all, but I'm out of here." I pushed the open doors button even though we weren't even down yet. It didn't work. If you ever wonder why Square never showed you what went on all the times I used the elevator, it's because Elevator Guy had a sick and twisted mind. I mean, sex with a tea pot? That's disgusting!  
  
INTERMISSION  
Yay! 25k point! (Final Fantasy VIII music plays for several minutes while everyone goes to  
the bathroom)  
  
Chapter 26  
In Which Squall Leonheart Tells a Story  
  
I know I'm halfway through telling you the story of the time my pants got sent to Galbadia, but my mind just went off on a tangent. I'm sorry but I just can't resist telling the story of mine and Rinoa's wedding before I get back to whatever it was I was ranting about. So if you want more of the pants story, just go on to chapter 27. But if you want to hear about my horribly disastrous wedding, keep reading straight through this.  
I asked Rinoa to marry me shortly after the defeat of Ultimecia. We were at a dance together, since dancing was one of her favorite things to do. It was the perfect place to ask her to marry me, since we had first met at a dance. I told her I wanted to go outside for a minute because it was so hot in the ball room, and she followed me outside predictably enough. We could still hear the music from inside and danced together outside for a moment before I kissed her. As I pulled away, I said quietly, "Rinoa, will you..." then I got slightly nervous. I don't know why; I knew she would say yes, but I stalled for a second before pulling out the ring I had bought for her. Her eyes lit up and she smiled as she saw the moon light glittering off the ring. "Will you marry me?" I finally asked.  
For one second, she looked like she was going to laugh and cry with joy and scream with excitement all at once. "YES!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around me tightly.  
We only took a month to plan it, since we were both too anxious to put it off. Quistis and Selphie did most of the planning for us, and I practically did nothing. I helped Rinoa make the guest list, and that's it. I didn't even have to worry about finding something to wear, since I had my SeeD uniform. Rinoa, on the other hand, sort of went crazy getting a dress. She actually designed one herself, and for several nights in a row she was up all night with Quistis and Selphie trying to get it sewn in time for the wedding. She repeatedly begged me to change the date of the wedding to give them more time, but I told her there was no way I was waiting any more than a month. So November was like National Wedding Planning Month or something. She reminded me of a crazy writer with an insane deadline the way she sewed that dress. My favorite part was the way she created ways to procrastinate on making it.  
I didn't actually get to see the dress until the morning of December 1st when we were in the ballroom of Balamb Garden for the ceremony. We decided that it was an appropriate place, since we met there and the space was big enough and very romantic. I saw her gracefully walking down the aisle towards me, and Julia sang "Eyes on Me" as she came down the aisle.  
Rinoa's dress had a long train on the back, and it had a design made of pastel colored beads. I didn't even want to picture how insane those girls must have been sewing on hundreds of little beads. It was slightly off the shoulder, but the sleeves were long. Quistis had blathered non- stop over the phone about how much she hated putting sleeves on dresses, but it looked gorgeous now that it was done.  
We began the handfasting ceremony, and it was absolutely flawless until the man performing the ceremony said, "If anyone here knows a reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace."  
There was silence for a moment. Then Laguna and General Caraway ran up to the altar, both embarrassed and out of breath. Laguna said loudly, "I'm so sorry I didn't realize this before!"  
"What?" I asked nervously.  
He was panting a little from running to the altar that quickly. "I was just talking to Julia and... and.... Raine was her sister!"  
Everyone gasped.  
"Wait... that means..."  
"I'm sorry, Squall. I know for a fact that Raine was your mother, and I know this is all very awkward-"  
"Oh my Gods, Squall! We're cousins!" Rinoa yelled. I screamed. I literally freaked out and screamed. How would you like it if you found out you had accidentally fallen in love with your cousin, gone beyond the ends of the earth for her, learned what love is from her, fucked her stupid, almost married her, and then found out from your recently discovered father that she was your cousin?  
Selphie laughed her ass off. "Good one, Laguna!" she said.  
"I'm serious. See this right here?" he said, holding up a piece of paper. "I got a hold of Raine's birth certificate. See? It says here, Raine Heartilly. June 8, 1960. Her mother and father were Aidan and Riona. And here..." he pulled out another birth certificate. "Julia Heartilly. Birth date March 26, 1957. Parents were Aidan and Riona. IS THIS PROOF ENOUGH?"  
"Oh my Gods, we're cousins!" Rinoa exclaimed again. "This is awful! I can't marry my cousin!"  
"Well, technically you could," Irvine pointed out. "Since we are floating over international waters right now, there's no law against it."  
"What do you know, you hick?" I yelled. "I am NOT marrying my cousin!"  
"Oh, and I thought I loved you!" Rinoa declared. She looked like she was going to swoon.  
"Irvine has a point there," Laguna said. "I won't stop you if you still choose to go through with this."  
"Laguna, that's sick!" Quistis said. "How can you say that to your son?"  
"Well it isn't unheard of," Laguna pointed out. "My great-great grandparents were cousins. And their parents were cousins too."  
"Oh my Gods, that's disgusting!" I exclaimed.  
Laguna shrugged. "It's how we got here. Personally, I wouldn't marry my cousin. But I suppose as long as we're floating over international waters you can do it."  
"Wait..." Zell said, "Does this mean that gay marriages are alright too?"  
"I suppose so... I don't see how that's pertinent though...." Laguna said.  
"Irvine, will you marry me?" Zell blurted out.  
"I thought you'd never ask!" Irvine said, hugging him. "I will!"  
Those two proceeded to get married right there and then, but it was sort of in the background, since me and Rinoa were still debating whether or not to go through with this wedding.  
"So... let me get this straight," I said. "It was historically acceptable for cousins to get married? Or were we just freaks?"  
"It was acceptable in the 19th century," he said, verifying that point.  
"And... technically Rinoa and I can get married since we're floating over international waters right now. But what about when we land the Garden somewhere?"  
"Not sure..."  
Rinoa was crying over this. "Squall, I can't believe I lost my virginity to you!"  
Laguna pretended not to hear that.  
"I'm sorry, I just couldn't control my precious! I still love you Rinoa..."  
"But we're cousins..."  
"I know. I wish I had known that before all this happened. Dammit, Dad, if you had just kept in touch with me--"  
"I'm sorry, Squall," he said, hugging me. "I know I was a lousy father for you all these years..."  
"You almost caused me to marry my cousin!" I yelled, crying.  
"Squall, calm down..."  
"Calm down? CALM DOWN!!! This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life! And now it's just.... awkward."  
Quistis approached me cautiously. "Squall... if it will make you feel better... I can marry you instead."  
"Wha...." I was truly shocked that she could be so bold. "But we... hardly know each other and-"  
"Bull shit, Squall, I've known you since you were two. We used to play paper dolls together."  
"Shhhhh! Tell the whole world, why don't you?"  
"Ok, what we did together when we were children isn't the point. What I'm saying is, I've known you forever, and I had a crush on you for so long... and Rinoa's dress fits me."  
"Quistis, this is a life decision. Are you sure you want to marry me after I told you to talk to a wall? I mean, this is for the rest of our lives..."  
"I love you, Squall. If you would rather marry your gorgeous, flirtatious cousin who was your first true love, go ahead. If you want to stay single, that's your choice. But... I want to marry you!"  
"Quistis... I don't know what to say..."  
"You know how I feel now. The choice is up to you."  
"I... I can't just blow you off, knowing that you love me, and knowing that Rinoa is my cousin.  
"But do you love me, Squall?" She said, looking right into my eyes, with her blue eyes shining like the moonlight. She was beautiful, with her golden hair and pretty face. And I had to admit, we had been through a lot together. Even if I was reluctant to protect her at first, I did it. I was the envy of every Trepe groupie when I got to go on a long mission with her. I could have ignored what they said about taking care of her, but I didn't. In return, Quistis had helped me and had never given me any trouble the way Rinoa did.  
"Quistis... after I saved Rinoa in outer space, you said you wondered if there was anyone who would do the same for you. The truth is, there is someone who would do that for you. And that person is me. I'll marry you, Quistis! Right this moment!"  
Her face lit up with a smile as she hugged me, crying with joy.  
"I'll never be mean to you again, I'll listen when you have a problem... I'll tell you all about what's going on with me. I promise. And Rinoa..." I looked over Quistis' shoulder at her. "Let's just be glad to know we've both found a long-lost relative. We can't undo what we did in bed, but we can move on, I'm sure."  
Quistis and Rinoa ran to the changing room and exchanged dresses quickly. A moment later, I was standing at the altar alone once more, awaiting my bride. Selphie scattered flowers down the aisle. Julia sang "Eyes on Me" again as the door to the ball room opened and Quistis stepped in, stunningly beautiful in Rinoa's wedding dress and trailing veil.  
And this time, Laguna had no objection.  
  
Chapter 27 In Which Squall Leonheart Resumes Blathering About Some Story That No One  
Gives a Crap About  
  
When I woke up Sunday morning, Gackt was in bed with me, and the song "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow" was playing. I'm pretty sure we had gotten drunk the night before, because I sure didn't remember getting into the same bed as him. I had to crawl over him to get out of bed.  
I couldn't believe how much random crap had happened to me over the last several days. I mean, who would have thought I would get caught trying to steal pants from a second hand store? I was all so... odd. I began to wonder if all this wasn't just because some crazy novelist wanted to write a 50,000 word novel in a month. But then I put that out of my head because I had more important things to worry about, mostly the pants issue. I planned to spend the day finding myself a lawyer, even though it was sort of pointless to try to prove that I didn't steal those pants.  
It was fairly late when I woke up; already ten thirty. I wondered if they were still serving breakfast in the cafeteria. Rather than taking the time to get dressed, I decided to walk around in my borrowed pajama pants and Nanowrimo t-shirt.  
As I was walking out of my part of the room, I heard an unaccompanied voice half yelling and half singing, "Turning Japanese I think I'm turning Japanese I really think so! Dun-a-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh!"  
The dorm room was divided into three small rooms: two little bed rooms and a common room. I was used to hearing odd noises come from behind the flimsy screens that divided the rooms. But never before had I heard such an awful rendition of "Turning Japanese".  
"I've got your picture, I've got your picture I'd like a million of them over myself I want a doctor to take your picture So I can look at you from inside as well You've got me turning up, I'm turning down, I'm turning in, and I'm turning 'round---"  
I opened the door and saw Cthulhu jumping up and down on his bed singing and strumming an invisible guitar. "Cthulhu..."  
"DON'T LOOK AT ME!!!" He yelled and covered his face.  
"I uh... thought you hated '80s music."  
"I just wanted to bother you... speaking of bothering, would you happen to have any jello recipes with you?"  
"Um... no. And I'm going to have breakfast now."  
"Whadda ya' say we go somewhere half-way decent for breakfast? Huh? Me and you and Victoria and Victor and Vickie and--"  
"NO! I'm going to have breakfast alone in the cafeteria, like I always do! Now leave me alone!"  
"You know... we could just use the microwave in room 210 and make breakfast ourselves. I have a box of jello here, so all we need is a bowl and some hot water and a refrigerator--- dammit, we should have picked up that hitch hiker with the frig! Dammit dammit dammit!!!!" he yelled, jumping up and down forcefully and messing up his bed. I started to leave, but he ran after me. "Wait! Squall!"  
"WHAT?"  
"I'm coming with you..."  
"Get some clothes on first."  
"Look who's talking!"  
"Hey, I'm not the one wearing European cut briefs!"  
  
Chapter 28  
The Day of Tentacles  
  
"I'll have a muffin," Cthulhu said, making me giggle like a school girl.  
"Stop saying muffin!" I begged him. He had ordered a muffin every damn day since I met him, and I still hadn't stopped laughing. It was sheer horror. The people who worked in the cafeteria thought I was insane.  
"Muffin muffin MUFFIN!!!" he yelled. I laughed uncontrollably.  
"And what will you have, sir?"  
"I'll have a-a-- MUFFIN!!!" I said, being very immature.  
I have no idea why I was still sitting at the same table as Cthulhu all the time. I hated the guy. He was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. He was a pain in the ass room mate, and yet I did nothing to prevent him from following me around and being like a nerdy side-kick. I guess I did it because he was easy to order around. I could demand that he do things like buy me another muffin, carry my backpack for me, etc. He was really easy to manipulate.  
"You know what, Squall? You remind me of my old best friend from Galbadia."  
"Since when were we best friends?" I asked. He ignored me and kept rambling.  
"We did everything together. We shared a room and we even liked the same TV shows. We used to stay up all night playing video games, too. But that was before he was eaten by werewolves."  
While Cthulhu was rambling, a small dog fell on my head. I have no idea where it came from, just out of the blue this little yapping dog fell out of the sky and landed on my head. It ran right across the table, but Cthulhu ignored it and kept rambling. Can't say I paid it much mind either. I kept listening to Cthulhu's ramblings.  
While he was talking on and on about his best friend, the doors to the cafeteria burst open and several police officers stormed in. "What the hell..."  
They picked up a table and smashed it in half. "No crack here..." one of them said to the other. One of them picked up a chair and busted it over a table. Still no drugs. They picked up a random pink backpack and dumped the contents out. Panty hose and pads fell out all over, along with a bottle of midol. The girl looked freaked. Finally, I understood what those little pink things were that girls always had in their purses. The police inspected the bottle of midol, then crushed the pills in frustration when they realized that they were just that- midol.  
They stormed through, knocking over tables, ripping apart backpacks and eyeing all the sporks suspiciously. They approached the table that Cthulhu and I were sitting at and grabbed my backpack. That was the end of that bag. For months after the zipper broke, I had held that thing together with safety pins. Now much to my annoyance, I would have to buy a new one. "Still no drugs..." they said. I was really starting to wonder what the hell was going on. They moved on to Cthulhu's backpack, but all he had in there was a rubber chicken. They ripped it in half and made him cry.  
They continued until they had searched every damn backpack, and then left.  
"So, what were you planning to do today, Squall?" Cthulhu asked.  
"I guess I'm going to buy a new backpack."  
"Oh goody! Can I come too?"  
"Um... I guess so---"  
"Wait, never mind. I need to edit my novel. But I'm sure you can find someone else to go with you. How 'bout Seifer? HEY SEIFER!!!"  
Seifer stared at us, but didn't walk over. It was so embarrassing to be seen with my dorky room mate for the one millionth time...  
"What do you want?" he asked, walking over to us.  
"Squall wants to go on a date with you," he lied.  
"No I---" Seifer punched Cthulhu in the face, then said, "Sure I'll go on a date with you. What did you have in mind?"  
"Well actually---"  
"Oh! I know! There's this place called the Velvety Touch Adult Lingerie and Video store. We can get ourselves some little movies to watch there and---"  
"I'd really rather not---"  
"Come on, it will be fun!" he said, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to the parking lot. Then he remembered he didn't have a car.  
"You moron..." I muttered.  
"Hey, it's not that long of a walk at least." Ha ha ha, yeah right. I convinced him we should bum a ride. So we stood next to the road and waited a long damn time before someone pulled over.  
"Damn, she's hot!" I said, barely able to see the girl through the window. She had blond hair that was partially clipped up, and was wearing a pink dress. She rolled the window down and I saw that it was Quistis.  
"What are you two up to?" she asked.  
"We're walking," Seifer said, dragging me along again. "Bye now!"  
"Seifer, what the hell? She could have given us a ride!"  
"Yeah, but I don't want my teacher to know we're going to an adult video store!"  
"Oh Gods..."  
He made me walk with him all the way to the Velvety Touch Adult Lingerie and Video store. It was sooooo embarrassing. So then we walked in and there was sexy music playing. The store was separated into two sections that were separated by a beaded curtain. Seifer started browsing through the movies while I looked at the frilly underwear just out of curiosity. What? I just wondered what women wore under their clothes, that's all! Ok, I was thinking dirty thoughts. But at least I wasn't as pervy as Seifer was.  
"Oh my Gods, Squall, look at this!" he exclaimed, running over to me with a tape in his hands. "I've been looking everywhere for this video!"  
It was called "Movie 28: In Which Mr. Scrupulous Wears a Feather Mask." The cover was a black and white photograph of a teenage boy wearing a very short tunic, tights, boots and a feather mask. He was lying across a bed in a very sexual pose, with the tunic pulled up so high that his butt almost showed.  
"If that's part 28 in the series, what the hell are the other movies about?"  
"Various stuff. Like there's In which Mr. Scrupulous attends a most unusual dinner party, and Mr. Scrupulous stars in the emperors new clothes-- -"  
"What the hell is it, a porno series or some sort of cheap old movie?"  
"It's like old porn."  
"Lovely..." I said in a sarcastic tone. "You know Seifer, I really think we should be going now. This place is full of weirdoes, like that guy over there."  
There was a large poster of a blond-haired lady posing nude. The only thing she wore was a head band with beads on it and she was holding onto a bandana. It was a weird picture. The guy who was staring at it looked like he had just crawled out of a cave. His clothes were old and dirty, and I'm sure his hair would have looked awful if it weren't covered with a bandana.  
"You're just mad because we're right across the street from that pantsy place!"  
"Shut up about that! Damn, what the hell am I doing here? I should be looking for a defense attorney pr at least buying a new back pack and avoiding that... place across the street, not staring at lacy underwear and Mr. Scrupulous videos..."  
  
Chapter 29  
In Which Squall Leonheart Has a Conversation  
  
"Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," the odd man with the bandana said.  
"Too bad, I'm not explaining my pants escapade to any weirdoes in an adult video store!"  
"Oh really? Because I just happen to..." he pulled out a business card and a pen, scribbled on it, then handed it to me. "... be a defense attorney."  
"But... you have about ten other careers crossed out here."  
"Yes, well I recently went back to college. Got tired of being a... what was I before?" he looked at the card. "Right, a nanny who was practically perfect in every way. That got old fast. I'm a lawyer now."  
"You look more like a thief," Seifer pointed out.  
"That's TREASURE HUNTER!!!"  
"Um... who the hell are you anyways?" I asked.  
Everything went dark except for the guy with the bandana and I saw a description of him being written out.  
"Treasure hunter Er... lawyer, heh heh heh... and trail-worn traveler, searching the world over for relics of the past..."  
Everything went back to normal. "The name's Locke," he said, extending his hand towards me. I ignored him and he looked kinda stupid putting it back down. I loved doing that to people.  
Seifer pulled me aside. "Squall, I hate to break it to you, but this guy's the biggest phony I've ever seen. It's obvious that he pretends to have a job, takes all your money, and runs with it."  
"Oh well, he can't get much from me anyways. Now shut up, I'm trying to make a deal here!"  
A little old man ran into the store, yelled out, "DORF!" and then ran out again.  
I walked back over to Locke. "Alright, here's the deal," I said. "I need you to prove that I didn't steal a pair of pants from the Salvation Army or else they'll make me pay a small and fairly insignificant fee for that! And no way am I going to pay for those pants; the popular kids aren't even shopping at that store any more."  
"Well, then I have good news! For a reasonable price, you can hire me to handle this case!"  
"Squall?" Seifer said. "Are you sure it's wise to hire some random guy in a porno shop?"  
"Shut up, Seifer! This guy is offering me a good deal."  
"That's only because he has a high charisma and several ranks in his bluff skill---"  
"I said SHUT UP!" I yelled at Seifer, then turned back to Locke. "You're hired!"  
  
Chapter 30 In Which it is Discussed Whether or Not Squall Leonheart Actually Stole a  
Pair of Pants from the Salvation Army  
  
Hi. I'll bet you really hate substitute narrators, huh? Well too bad, because this scene is WAY more interesting from my view point! Ha! Who am I, you may be wondering. I am a podium. I have no name, as I am only a piece of furniture. However, I was there when Squall resolved his little problem with the Salvation Army.  
The first case of the day was the case of Impresario, who wanted to legally change his name to Sebastian.  
"Now, Mr. Impresario," said the judge, who had neon pink hair. I don't know why he had pink hair. Maybe it was a freak breakfast cereal accident, or maybe it was because of the noodle incident. "What makes you want to change your name to Sebastian?"  
"I hate being called Impresario! That's a job, not a name! I want to be Sebastian, like the crab from 'The Little Mermaid'."  
"Little Mermaid, huh? Alright then, if you want your name to be Sebastian... sing the song 'Under the Sea'."  
"Objection, your honor!" Someone called out. "This is a courtroom, not a theatre!"  
"In my court room, we will have singing! Now sing 'Under the Sea' and I will legally change your name to Sebastian!"  
Impresario pulled out a piano, started playing and sang, "The sea weed is always greener in somebody else's lake. You dream about going up there, but that is a big mistake. Just look at the world around you, right here on the ocean floor. Such wonderful things around you, what more are you looking for? Under the sea!"  
Several other people, including the judge, started singing along. "Under the sea! Darling it's better down where it's wetter, take it from me! Out on the shore they work all day, under the sun they slave away..." and so on.  
The judge pounded his gavel down on me. Ouch. I hate being a podium. "You are now legally named Sebastian! Congratulations!"  
Sebastian started to leave, but the judge stopped him.  
"Wait, we might need you to play the piano some more. Next case: Aeris Gainsborough, who wants to... legally change her birth date and death date?" he said in a confused tone as he looked at the paper in front of him. "Gods, I hate this job..." he muttered as a young flower girl entered the room with her boyfriend, who had positively hideous hair.  
"Let's see... you wish to legally change your date of death from February 23, 1997 to February 23, 2047? And change your date of birth from January 18, 1975 to March 5, 1975, just because you feel like it. Miss Gainsborough, must you really waste my time with this?"  
"Yes I must your honor, I'll take this to the Supreme Court if I have to! I don't care so much about the death date as changing my birth date from January 18, 1975 to March 5, 1975 though. I really want to change that."  
Ok, in all my years of being a podium in a court room, I had never seen anything as moronic as this before. They argued for a while, then he told her to sing her song.  
"What song?"  
"Your theme song from Final Fantasy 7."  
"It has no lyrics!"  
"Then make them up!"  
"Objection, your honor!" The same guy yelled again. "This is a court room, not a theatre!"  
"I move that Aeris will sing her theme song!"  
Impresario proceeded to play Aeris' theme, and she actually sang some bull crap lyrics about selling flowers. However, they didn't actually resolve that case since it was going to go to the Supreme Court.  
"Next on the list: Squall Leonheart vs. the Salvation Army. Finally, a real case..." he muttered as a teenage boy entered, along with his "lawyer" who looked suspiciously like a certain treasure hunter. The prosecuting attorney and the salesperson from the Salvation Army entered as well.  
"Let's see... Squall Leonheart, you were charged with shoplifting from a local second-hand store."  
Squall's "lawyer" prompted him in a stage whisper to plead not guilty. Ok, not only was that treasure hunter obviously faking his way through the case, he was doing an awful job of it. The only thing worse than this was Aeris' attempt to change her date of birth.  
Anyways, the first witness they called up was the store keeper.  
"So, where were you when Mr. Leonheart supposedly stole a second-hand pair of pants from the local Salvation Army?"  
"Well your honor, I was at the cash register."  
"Uh-huh... I see, and were you by any chance drunk that day?" Squall's "lawyer" asked.  
"No! I'm never drunk on the job."  
"Oh really? Because exhibit A is a picture of you getting drunk with your college buddies! HA!"  
"Um... that's an Amano drawing of Kefka."  
"So you say you saw my client walking out of the store with a pair of the pants. Do you recall, at any time, getting amnesia?"  
"No."  
"I have no further questions at this time," the "lawyer" said, taking his seat.  
"You IDIOT, Locke!" Squall yelled. "You're supposed to be defending me!"  
The judge slammed his gavel down on me again and said, "Order in the court!"  
The real lawyer asked his questions next.  
"Now, tell us the situation as you saw it," he said, and the store keeper proceeded to describe Squall sneaking out of the store with a pair of pants.  
Next, Locke called Squall to the stand.  
"Now, Squall," Locke said, "Where were you when you stole the pants?"  
Squall just looked frustrated, smacked his left hand against his forehead (his right hand was in a cast for some reason), and said, "Locke..."  
"Answer the question, Squall."  
"I was in the Salvation Army store on Bud Light Street."  
"Take a look at exhibit B. Do you recognize these pants?" he continued.  
"Locke! You're supposed to be defending me!"  
"Yes or no?"  
"Yes..."  
Everyone gasped. Gods, this was the most obnoxious case I had ever seen. Anyways, things were looking more and more grim for Squall when suddenly....  
"I need to go to the bathroom!" Locke yelled and ran out of the room.  
"Why me..." Squall mumbled. "That's the last time I hire a random attorney in an adult video store..."  
I really had to wonder about that comment. Anyways, a mysterious stranger, most likely the "lawyer's" long-lost twin entered the room and sat down in a random spot.  
"Mr. Leonheart, I find you guilty of-"  
"OBJECTION!" the stranger who had just entered the room yelled.  
"What now?"  
"He didn't do it! I was there, I saw it! Another boy stole the pants and used them to frame him!"  
The audience gasped. Squall struggled to not look shocked.  
"Yes! That's exactly what happened!" he exclaimed. "It was like this... I-"  
"No need to explain," Locke said, walking to the front of the room. "I know EXACTLY what happened! Your Dungeons and Dragons character, who was a fighter, died. So then you ended up playing as a theif, but had trouble being convincing so you joined a thieves' guild!"  
"Yes! Yes I did!" Squall said, over acting slightly and acting passionate about the situation.  
"Objection, your honor! He's a student at Balamb Garden!" Seifer yelled out.  
"Shut up, he's telling a story!" the judge yelled, slamming his gavel down on me again. "Please, continue."  
"And so before you knew it, you were so fucked up confused that you hung out with the thieves, thinking they were your nerd buddies."  
Sebastian, formerly known as Impresario, began to play a tune on the piano.  
"And they convinced you to go along with it! And the leader of the guild sang-" At this point, Locke started to sing along with the music that Sebastian was playing. "You've got to pick a pocket or two, you've got to pick a pocket or two!" and so on. I have to admit, for a complete idiot, he was putting on a pretty good show. The prosecuting attorney knew he was going to lose the case at this point, since the judge was obsessed with music and he couldn't match pitch to save his life.  
So as soon as Locke was done with his song, he said, "Oh yeah? Is that so?"  
"Yes, it's true!" Squall said dramatically.  
"Then sing 'Where is Love'."  
Ok, this didn't make any sense. In fact, I don't know WHY I'm bothering to narrate this, since it followed no line of logic.  
"Who... me?" Squall said, stammering. "But the last time I checked my character sheet, my charisma score was only 15 and I had no ranks at all in the performance feat-"  
"Well if some guy off the street can give a Broadway-quality performance, I think you can too!"  
"But... but..."  
"Just do it, Squall!" the random guy off the street who looked like the phony lawyer said.  
"Alright..." Squall said nervously.  
  
Chapter 31  
In Which Squall Leonheart Sings "Where is Love"  
  
I had never even heard of the song "Where is Love" before. I really regretted hiring Locke to be my lawyer now, but I have to admit he was very creative. He was turning this thing into a musical...  
Impresario- I mean, Sebastian- just happened to have the sheet music to "Where is Love". How convenient is that? He began to play when Seifer yelled out, "Your honor, I object!"  
"What now?"  
"This is a courtroom, not a theatre!"  
"Shut up, I like this song!" the pink-haired judge yelled at him. "Please, Sebastian, continue."  
"Sebastian" began the introduction over again and I had a glorious realization: I could see the word on the sheet music from where I was standing.  
"Where is love? Does it come from skies above?" I sang. I was slightly off, since the notes were a little bit above my range, but I thought it sounded alright anyways. Locke gave me the signal to look more dramatic. Ok, what does that tell you when your lawyer actually has a signal that means you need to be more emotional?  
"Is it underneath the willow tree that I've been dreaming of? Where is he whom I close my eyes to see?" I sang, getting more confident with this. Locke motioned for me to be more expressive still, enough to make everyone in the room cry. "Will I ever hear that sweet 'hello' that's meant only for me? Who can say where he may hide?"  
Locke was going crazy trying to get me to be more expressive. I had told him ahead of time that I wasn't very dramatic, but he still told me his stupid plan would undoubtedly work. It really didn't seem worth making an idiot out of myself just to not pay three GP for a pair of pants.  
"Must I travel far and wide 'til I am beside someone who I can mean something to?" I sang, sounding more convincing and wandering across the room. Locke looked happier with my performance. "Where, where is love?"  
Locke motioned for me to clasp my hands together and kneel down as I sang, "Every night I kneel and pray let tomato be the day That I see the face of someone who I can mean something to."  
I looked around and saw that a few people were crying. That was definitely a good sign. "Where," I sang, projecting more and building to a dramatic climax, "Where is love?"  
Not only did I have everyone crying, they all applauded the second I was done singing. "Sebastian" ran in front of me and bowed repeatedly, trying to steal the show. I couldn't believe everyone was stupid enough to fall for that.  
The judge slammed his gavel and said, "I find the defendant to be..." he wiped away a tear, "... innocent of all charges!"  
"Kick ASS!" I yelled and hugged Locke. I don't know why I did that, since Locke just barely got me through that. But he was nearby, so it was convenient to hug him.  
"You were great, man..." he said, hugging me back. It was pathetic.  
Cid walked up to us, wiping away a few tears and then putting his handkerchief back in his pocket. "That was..." he sniffed, "Even more touching... than Aeris' attempt to change her date of death!"  
Talk about sappy.  
I swore never to give a touching performance like that again. Ever. Well, maybe if it meant getting away with shoplifting.  
  
Chapter 32  
In Which Squall Leonheart Decides to Take a Shower With Gackt Camui  
  
"Gackt..."  
"Yes, love?"  
"Why is there a microwave in the bathroom?"  
I have no idea why Gackt was still in my room. It was insane. It was like he just hung out there and lived off of the various snacks that Cthulhu left all over the room while hiding from all his fans. But what really baffled me at the moment was the microwave near the tub.  
"Oh, Seifer stole that from room 210. Senior prank. Don't tell anyone."  
"Why wasn't I in on this?"  
"Because he figured you weren't into microwaving rodents."  
"Wha...."  
"Yeah, he microwaved a crap load of rodents and put them in Cid's office."  
"But... why is the microwave in the bathroom?"  
Gackt didn't answer my question. Instead he said, "Speaking of bathrooms, let's go take a shower together!"  
"Wait a second-" he grabbed me and ran to the bathroom, then shoved me into the shower stall, pulling down my pants. At the moment I was wearing a pair of pajama pants that belonged to Zell. I had finally stopped swiping pants from random rooms.  
"Gackt, what the hell are you--" he placed his mouth over mine, silencing me.  
"I love you, Squall."  
"This is so... random though!"  
"I don't care! I want you NOW!!!" he exclaimed, pulling my shirt up.  
I reached over and turned on the water, soaking his white t-shirt. It clung to his skin, showing off his strong but slender build. Everything showed under the sheer shirt, even his hard nipples. Gackt grinned lustily as his clothes got completely soaked.  
"I want you too..." I said, stroking his precious. His black pants were clinging as tightly to his skin as his shirt was. I felt his precious growing stiff in my hand. He groaned, then pushed me against the wall, kissing me lustily. My boxers were soaked by the water falling on us like a rain storm, and he could see my precious. I was hornier than I had ever been in the shower before. I mean, me and my precious usually had a little fun in the shower. But never like this.  
Gackt reached down and placed his fingers delicately on the elastic of my boxers as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, then reached up a little and played with his wet hair. He pulled down, but by that point it was a little difficult to get my moogle boxers off because they were so saturated with water. He got on his knees in order to pull them off, then stopped. His mouth was right near my precious. !!!!!CENSORED!!!! WE CANNOT SHOW THIS KIND OF YAOI IN FRONT OF THE INNOCENT PERVERTS OUT THERE!!!!!!  
My fingers dug into his wet hair, pulling at it slightly. I closed my eyes and felt a huge wave of pleasure as Gackt !!!CENSORED!!! my !!!!CENSORED!!!. For a moment all I could feel was extreme pleasure. All other thoughts disappeared except for a single sensation. Finally, Gackt pulled away and stood up slowly, still wearing his wet clothes.  
I rolled his shirt up slowly, massaging his chest as I pulled it up. I threw it aside, then pulled him close and kissed him before I started to remove his pants. They were so wet that the only way to get them off was to roll them down slowly, taking his under pants along with them.  
Neither of us bothered with removing his jewelry. Gackt always seemed to be wearing a delicate necklace, or a tiny pair of earrings. Even when I saw the naked pictures of him on the internet, he had on a tiny set of earrings and a choker. Today he had on a pair of antique earrings. They were gold with tiny little designs and a blue teardrop shaped jewel. I knew they had to be antiques because they had screw backs. His necklace was a golden butterfly with white gems for the wings. It was incredibly tiny and delicate, suspended on a short and fine gold chain. I was wearing Griever and of course my ring. My style was much less delicate, antique and refined than his. After all, I was a fighter, not a singer like Gackt. I knew that I could dance as well as him if I wanted to though.  
I looked into his dark blue eyes, and thought how perfect he looked. Even when his blond hair was messy, and the roots were showing and it was wet, his hair looked perfect. I hoped I looked as good as he did, even though I should have been more confident than that. After all, it was his idea for us to take a shower together. His deep and shining eyes were framed perfectly by a fringe of long, dark eyelashes. When I looked at the photographs of him, I always thought that he wore mascara to get his eyes to look like that. But it must have been natural, because the dark, thick effects on his eyelashes didn't wash out, even with the water pounding down on us. There were some pictures where he was obviously wearing makeup though. I'll tell you a little secret: Gackt didn't really have deathly white skin, or blood red lips, or even blue around his eyes. He was darker than he appeared in his Malice Mizer pictures, more like a real person and less like a vampire. Yet he was no less magnetic and fascinating than a charming and charismatic vampire. But that was only half his seductive power. From the time that I borrowed a Malice Mizer CD from Zell and heard Gackt's voice, I had been in love with him. It was my little secret. For obvious reasons, I didn't want to let people know that I swung both ways so to speak. His voice was masculine and strong, yet refined and almost classical as well. And his range was incredible.  
It was completely random, but I still wondered how why the hell Seifer had microwaved rodents, and I wondered what the hell possessed Gackt to want to take a shower and get sexy with someone like me. There was so much about my life that I couldn't even begin to comprehend. There was also so much that I didn't want to know.  
There were a great many things about Gackt that confused me, too. For example, while we were standing there in the shower feeling rather sexual, he suddenly started playing around with a rubber ducky. I was a little embarrassed about it, but I had a little collection of rubber duckies. There was the classic yellow one, plus I had four little duckies. Then there was the devil ducky that I bought over the internet. It was an impulse buy if there ever was one, but it was funnier than hell. It was like a regular rubber ducky, only it was red instead of yellow, had two little black horns and it had an evil look on it's face. The classic bath toy had gone to the dark side. I also had a ducky that looked kind of like it was wearing a Mysidian Rabbit costume. I bought it the Museum of Summons. And then there was the chocobo- although technically that wasn't a rubber ducky.  
I heard the sound of glass shattering and suddenly several men clad entirely in black jumped through the window. Only their eyes showed with the ninja garb they were wearing. The leader pulled out two katanas and leaped into the air, yelling and slashing at thin air.  
"What the hell is going on here?" I yelled.  
"Don't mind us, we're just the plot ninjas," they said. "We've come to destroy this writer's block."  
"Alright, carry on then," I said. Gackt and I watched casually as the ninjas swung through the air, flinging their katanas around and doing tricks that made it obvious they were computer-generated. I couldn't see any writer's block in the bathroom, but apparently they could. Maybe they thought the microwave was a writer's block. I don't know what they hell they did exactly. I watched them perform their little stunts, then leap back out the window never to be seen again.  
"I believe we were taking a shower together before that attack, correct?" Gackt asked.  
"Right. That would explain why we were playing with my rubber ducky collection when they barged in."  
"Take your time," a female voice said. "This bath scene still needs 2800 words to be complete."  
"Who the hell are you?" I asked as I looked over and saw a black- haired elf girl in a blue dress.  
"I'm the author," she said snobbishly. Typical elf, I thought.  
"Yeah? Well I'm the narrator!"  
"You wouldn't be without me."  
"Whatever. You can't tell me how much time to spend in the shower!"  
"2700 words left..." She said, scribbling down a transcription of our conversation.  
"This is stupid, I've spent less time describing an entire day than describing this stupid shower!"  
"Keep describing it, dammit! I still own you for 17, 676 words!"  
"I hate this though, nothing at all is happening!"  
"So what? Keep up the sexity-sex if you're bored!" She said and walked out.  
"I QUIT!!!!" I yelled, storming out of the bath room. I was just so damn sick of being the fucking narrator!!!  
  
Chapter 33  
In Which Quistis Trepe Haggles With an Evil Photocopier  
  
I was in Cid's office trying to make copies of the Elven 101 handouts that I had typed up the night before. Of course they were total bullcrap because I had never taken a single Elven class in my entire life. But I was the only instructor with period 4 free, so I was the substitute teacher for Elven 101. You see, Instructor Tolkien had mysteriously disappeared, and the only explanation that was going around was that there was "A tragic accident that occurred in room 210". The students thought that the room was haunted now because he had died so mysteriously. Cid was also having trouble finding a new Elven teacher. After all, Elven was a rather archaic language now that the Elves were speaking Sylvan, a much simpler language. Still, we were behind the times and teaching Elven instead of Sylvan.  
I had never taken Elven though; I had taken Latin and French. I was afraid of the Elven language when I found out that it was more complex than Latin. Anyways, I was capable of teaching any subject if I had the teacher's edition text book and a couple of hours to read ahead of the students. It was incredibly easy; I just had to stay one chapter ahead of the kids and they would never know that I was completely clueless. So that's what I was doing: I read chapter 5 the night before, took notes on it, then decided to photocopy my notes. I had only been a student the year before and knew how boring it was to copy down notes. It was so horribly boring that I wrote backwards to liven things up, or I would write in Runes. So when I became an instructor I swore never to make a class copy notes. However, the photocopier had it's own opinion about that. It displayed a message that said, "What will you give me if I copy these notes for you?"  
"I'll photocopy my boobs on you," I said sarcastically. That motivated it. But then it gave me several hundred copies of the Elven notes. That was alright, I'm sure I could find lots of uses for pointless Elven notes- burning them, shredding them and putting them in a hamster cage... no one knew this about me, but I had a tradition when I was a student: I would burn all my assignments and notes and everything right after exams. I even had a party after the SeeD exam where me and the other people who passed burned all our notes from the year. It was lovely.  
Anyways, as the evil photocopier was spewing out Elven notes, a business man wearing a three-piece suit and carrying a brief case ran into the office.  
"Excuse me, have you seen Mike Hunt? I need to find Mike Hunt!"  
"Sorry, I haven't seen any cunts around here."  
He looked confused and walked out.  
I walked into room 210 holding my big-ass stack of papers and realized that... the microwave was missing! I gasped and dropped the papers in shock. "W--where's the microwave?" I stammered.  
"Squall stole it," Seifer said. "He wanted to microwave rodents!"  
Everyone laughed. I rolled my eyes. Why the hell was Seifer always telling on Squall? Was it really that amusing to bother him? Or did Seifer enjoy vexing me at the same time?  
"Make him buy tampons!" Seifer added. How the hell had he found out about that, I wondered.  
"Just for that," I said, "I'm making you buy tampons." Everyone laughed. "Alright, enough of that. We have a lot to do today," I said, setting the stack of papers down on Tolkien's desk. I couldn't help but notice a several hundred page manuscript sitting there and decided to take a look at it while the class was doing busy work. I had always hated teachers giving me busy work, but then when I started teaching busy work was what would have saved my career if my career had been saved. Whenever I wanted to have a free period because I needed to think, or I just wanted to surf the internet and drink coffee instead of actually teaching, I assigned busy work. It was awful and I felt guilty about it, but it was so tempting I couldn't resist.  
  
Chapter 34  
In Which Quistis Trepe Uses the Internet  
  
After handing out the notes I copied and reading them out loud (another really cheap trick of mine), I assigned Chapter 5 as reading, even though I had just summarized it, and then told everyone to outline Chapter 5 and answer questions. That would give me an hour to myself, and I could keep everyone quiet, too. I knew there was something that I wanted to do, but I couldn't remember what it was now, so I went on the internet instead to talk to my online boyfriend.  
I had no idea who my online boyfriend was, but that was part of the fun. It was intriguing, in a secret admirer sort of way. I pictured him being in his mid to late 20's, with eyes the color of the desert sky and long hair as golden as the sand and pulled back with a bright blue ribbon. I thought of him as a tall, handsome warrior, old-fashioned but chivalrous, and very dashing. We had been dating on-line for about a year now, and we still didn't know who the other one really was or where we lived. I pretended to be a medieval lady, since he always called me "My Lady." When I opened my e-mail, he had sent me a picture of a dozen red roses, and he happened to be online, too. We always met in the same spot: the AOL kids only chat room. The thrill of possibly getting caught by an angry parent and being TOSed made it even more thrilling to cyber.  
"SexyFigaro: Good morrow, my lady," popped up on the screen as soon as I entered. "::kisses hand::"  
"Trepie01: ::blushes slightly::"  
It was awful because the kids in the room were talking about things like Barney and Power Rangers, and we were about to make love in front of them.  
"SexyFigaro: Shall we?"  
"Trepie01: Shall we what?"  
"SexyFigaro: You know... what we always do."  
"Trepie01: Ooh... EDGAR! You're so naughty."  
"SexyFigaro: Well?"  
"Trepie01: I like a bad boy! ::cracks whip::"  
"SexyFigaro: Oh, I can be bad if you want. ::takes off shirt:: Look, I'm stripping in a children's chat room! And SHIT! I'm swearing in a children's chat room!"  
"Trepie01: ::spanks Edgar::"  
"SexyFigaro: Nice shirt, Quisty. It would look good on my floor."  
"Trepie01: I need help getting this dress off, it laces down the back." I was never honest about what I wearing. My favorite lie was the old-fashioned ball gown that laced down the back. I'm pretty sure Edgar liked that one too.  
"SexyFigaro: Turn around, Quisty ;)"  
"Trepie01: ::turns around::"  
"SexyFigaro: ::pinches Quistis' ass::"  
"Trepie01: You know, it takes forever to get this dress off ;)"  
"SexyFigaro: ::carefully cuts the lacing, can't be patient:: Kiss me, my love!"  
"Trepie01: ::wraps arms around Edgar and kisses him passionately::"  
"SexyFigaro: ::opens mouth::"  
"Trepie01: ::also opens mouth::"  
"SexyFigaro: ::throws Quistis onto the bed::"  
"Trepie01: Um, there is no bed here. Remember? We always have sex in the ball pit instead."  
"SexyFigaro: Oh, that's right. ::pushes her into the ball pit. Colorful balls fly around and pre-schoolers run away screaming::"  
"Trepie01: ::plays with Edgar's hair::"  
"SexyFigaro: ::French kisses Quistis again::"  
"Trepie01: ::pulls down his pants::"  
"SexyFigaro: I'm not wearing any ;)"  
"Trepie01: What are you wearing?"  
"SexyFigaro: a kilt. with nothing under it."  
"Trepie01: Ooh... ::reaches up kilt, grasps his manhood::"  
"SexyFigaro: :) ::pulls down Quistis' panties::"  
"Trepie01: ::isn't wearing any panties::"  
"SexyFigaro: You didn't bother to wear a bra, did you?"  
"Trepie01: Nah, I know you think corsets are sexier. ::Unfastens corset::"  
"SexyFigaro: ::unhooks garters and rolls her stockings down, burying face in her nest::"  
"Trepie01: :) ugn... ugn... oh yeah!"  
"SexyFigaro: ::eats her out::"  
"Trepie01: ::arches back slightly, moaning in pleasure, spreads legs apart more::"  
"SexyFigaro: ::sticks hard cock into her::"  
"Trepie01: ::has an orgasm:: OH YES!!!!!"  
"SexyFigaro: ::moans loudly::"  
I was so busy cybering that I didn't notice that Squall was standing right behind me until I heard him saying, "Um... Miss Trepe, I need help with questions 6 and 9..."  
"HUH?" I gasped, turning around. Then I took my hand off my private, realizing that it looked really bad to have my hand between my legs. I must have turned a dark magenta I was so embarrassed.  
"Um, I need help with this translation right here."  
"Trans... lation?"  
"SexyFigaro: What's wrong Quistis? You're awful quiet, aren't I turning you on/"  
I quickly typed in, "BRB"  
"Miss Trepe, I don't mean to interrupt... whatever it is you're doing but I need help with this question."  
"Hold on a sec Squall, the grown-ups are talking."  
Squall looked suspiciously at the screen. "That's AOL kids only, what are you--- OH MY FUCKING GODS!!!!!!!"  
"Squall! SHUT UP!" I yelled, minimizing the chat room so he wouldn't peep at any more of the conversation. Everyone looked up and stared at us. "I mean... Squall, honey, just sit down and we'll look over 69 together--- I mean the questions! Yeah!"  
"Quistis, what the hell are you thinking wacking off during class?" He whispered.  
"Huh? Oh Gods! You didn't see that, did you?"  
"I saw you grinning lustily and putting your hand... down there."  
"Don't tell anyone," I whispered.  
Squall rolled his eyes. "Quistis, you're supposed to be the responsible one around here!"  
"Yeah? Well... I kept my clothes on, right?"  
"You are sick! Giving us busy work so you can wack off and cyber! Quistis, I'm telling Cid."  
"Oh, welcome to first grade. Ooh, teacher, Quistis is being a bad girl!" I said sarcastically but quietly. "Look, I'll give you an A on this assignment and we'll call it even, alright?"  
"Um... okay."  
  
Chapter 35  
In Which Quistis Trepe Finally Gets Around to Teaching Something  
  
"Alright, we have ten minutes left of class. Let's go over the questions," I said, trying to compose myself. It was really hard to look professional when I felt so horny. "Question one--" I was about to read it off, but Ubu started walking around. "Sit, Ubu, sit!" I said.  
"You have to say it in Elven!" Seifer said in a snotty voice.  
"Havo dad, Ubu. Now, back to question one---"  
"Teacher, I have a question!" Zell said.  
"What?"  
"Um... what happened to the microwave?"  
"I don't know. Back to--- yes, Squall, do you have a question?"  
"Yeah. Do you touch yourself?" he asked in all seriousness. Everyone else started laughing.  
"Squall! This is Elven, not sex ed! If you wanted to know about masturbation, you should have asked Mr. Ian Woon while he was still alive."  
"But I need to know!"  
"NO YOU DON'T!" Cthulhu raised his hand. "Yes, Cthulhu?"  
"Is it normal for people to touch themselves... there?"  
"Why are you all stuck on self-pleasuring today? My gosh, what a horny class!"  
"Teacher, I really need to know!" Cthulhu persisted.  
"DON'T CALL ME TEACHER!" I yelled. "My name is Miss Trepe, remember? Now stop talking about masturbation, all of you."  
"Miss Trepe, why do fundies say it's a sin to touch yourself?"  
"Well because... Cthulhu, you have a question, too?"  
"Yeah. If I call you 'teacher' again, are you gonna use that kinky whip on me?"  
"No... I would never hurt an innocent little... thing like you..." I said, trying to hold in my frustration. If it weren't illegal to hit my students, I would have used it. And when people found out what it actually felt like, they would stop asking me to use my kinky whip on them. I hated that: everyone was always trying to get me to use my kinky whip on them.  
"Miss Trepe, is it true that if you touch yourself too much you'll go blind?"  
"No, Seifer, that is completely false. And it will not cause loss of hearing, or sterility, and it will NOT make your... hooha turn purple and fall off. Well... now I suppose you all want a lecture on self-pleasuring, don't you?"  
"No! We want a Q and A session!"  
I really hated this. However, I knew more about masturbation than I did about Elven, so I decided to just go ahead and answer all their questions about self-pleasuring.  
"Alright, who wants to ask me a question about this first? Yes, Squall?"  
"Ok, you know that song 'I touch myself'?"  
"Yes..."  
"Do you think it's nasty if someone pictures you while touching themselves?"  
"Well..."  
"I mean, like, if you found out someone was picturing you and touching their precious, would that disturb you?"  
"Well... I suppose it would depend on the person, really. But how could it bother me if I didn't know? Usually people keep quiet about this sort of thing. And hey, maybe the person you're picturing is also picturing you while they touch themselves. I mean, how many of you here think of your significant other while you touch yourselves? Come on, don't be shy. Everyone masturbates, and if they say they don't they're lying!"  
"Really?" Squall said, fascinated. "Even people with real relationships?"  
"Yes, Squall. Everyone will masturbate many times in their life, unless they die really young or something..."  
"Then they do it when they get reincarnated and reach puberty, right?"  
"Yes. Ok, do you have a question, Seifer?"  
"Yeah. How do women masturbate?"  
"I'll tell you if you tell me how men masturbate first."  
"Ok, never mind--- wait, I have another question: does it turn you on when you put in a tampon?"  
"No. A tampon is much too small to give anyone an orgasm."  
I was thankful when the bell rang and that class was over. I reminded everyone that the rest of the questions were for homework, then headed for the teacher's lounge. As soon as I got there, I realized that I didn't have a break, since there was a bull shit assembly today. Yeah, I was close enough to being a student to know that assemblies were total bull crap. However, it was better than substituting for a class I didn't know diddly squat about. And at least it was the least obnoxious kind of assembly: the kind that came before a fund raiser. I had no clue what the hell we were selling, but I knew one thing: we definitely needed the money. I was hoping that Cid would use it to get a better lounge for the teachers. The one we had literally looked like it had been ripped out of a building from the '70s. It had brown and yellow walls, crappy orange furniture, broken appliances, the works. And it was hideously dirty. But I suppose that a decent teacher's lounge was on the bottom of Cid's list of priorities.  
I had to get back to my class room, since my home room was going to be waiting for me there. I dreaded facing my home room, since Squall and Seifer would be there, and their dirty minds were probably still on the subject of self-pleasuring. Those two were so freakin' weird. Seifer was easily the second most obnoxious student in my home room (Zell being the most annoying) and Squall was the moodiest creep I had ever met. And yet I still thought Squall was hot. He had the most beautiful gray-blue eyes, and I loved the way his shiny, light brown hair fell in his eyes. He didn't pay much attention to his looks; he was just naturally handsome. It turned me on when I watched him fighting with his gunblade. I was sort of embarrassed when he brought up the song "I Touch Myself" because sometimes I did picture him. It was a guilty pleasure of mine, but hey, it wasn't hurting anyone. That's the only rule I followed as far as what was right or wrong: If it harm none, do what ye will. Of course there were exceptions to that rule; for example, in battle the correct thing to do was to kill and maim the enemy left and right. And I was damn good at that, too. So I suppose for someone who seemed like a highly respectable instructor at a military academy, I had extremely loose morals. Not that anyone knew about that though...  
  
Chapter 36  
In Which Quistis Trepe Reveals Her Pen Name  
  
Actually, thinking about Squall and touching myself wasn't my only dirty secret. I had a much darker secret: I wrote the bustiest, brawniest romance novels that ever showed up in the Balamb Garden library. I had a fake name for that though: Celes Chere. It just sounded so much more romantic and busty than Quistis Trepe. Plus I had to preserve my reputation. If anyone asked, I was a SeeD, not some love-starved twit.  
I was currently working on a romantic AU fanfic of the novel 2600. It was the same basic story, only Zendle and Kathryna meet at a single's bar and then it goes through a similar story to the original but..  
I'm not going to tell you the ending. If you want to know what happens, you'll have to buy my book.  
Anyways, I really had trouble not staring at Squall when I walked in the room. He looked so gorgeous slumped over on his desk sleeping, bored beyond words while everyone else was chattering away. He was so dark and brooding, it gave him a mysterious sexiness. Everyone quieted down and sat at their desks when I walked in. It made me a little uncomfortable when they did that. It was so weird, I liked all the respect that people gave me, but I felt so distanced from everyone as well. They weren't afraid of me just because I could fight; there was something else that made my students nervous around me. I noticed it especially in the boys. I sat down on my desk and flipped through a magazine while I waited for my room to be called to the ball room. We didn't have an auditorium or a gym for assemblies, we had a ball room. Oh no, that wasn't pretentious. Anyways, we were one of the first rooms that got called, since it went from oldest to youngest.  
I just have to say it: I thought it was really stupid having assemblies in the ball room. I mean, we walked in looking real professional, then everyone sat on the floor and looked like a bunch of bums lounging around. Or maybe that was just me. Like the crappy teacher's lounge, the assembly issue wasn't that big of a deal.  
This was my perfect chance to ask Cid what the hell we were going to try selling this time for the fund raiser. So far, we'd tried just about everything: candy, magazines, the usual cliché fund raising items, and it never worked very well. Basically, everyone in Balamb was really sick of us bothering them, and on top of that every other private school was doing the same thing. But the main reason why the fund raisers never quite worked was that we were all too lazy to get out and actually try to sell the stuff. For example, I found writing bad historical romance much more interesting than going door-to-door like a total dork selling candy and crap. And who wouldn't? I felt like sort of a phony being one of the "adults" that was supposedly behind this fund raiser. You know, that's what I hated about being one of the "adults": the students would lump all of us into the same category, even though none of the instructors were alike at all. I mean, I was the exact opposite of Ms. Habecker, the English teacher from hell. She was the biggest bitch I had ever met, and she would have died if she found out I wrote cheesy romance novels. She also hated Squall; mostly because he never wrote essays like she wanted him to. And she wasn't even a SeeD or anything, she just randomly showed up and started teaching English one day or something. I actually got into a fight with her one time. I was in the teacher's lounge when she started grading papers--- which is really dorky in itself, since the lounge is for watching TV and stuff--- and she started bitching about how she asked for a five paragraph essay and Squall gave her an angsty poem.  
"What the hell is the difference?" I asked, rolling my eyes. I was a little pissed that she was interrupting my afternoon anime with her babbling. I was probably the only instructor who was addicted to Neon Genesis Evangelion. "If he made his point, does it really matter?"  
"Yes," she said, drawing a huge "F" across the page. I grabbed her pen.  
"That's so mean!" I said. I took every attack on Squall as an attack on myself. It was pathetic, since he didn't even realize that I existed. But I couldn't help it. I was practically obsessed with him. I actually got into a fight that time, since I insisted that she give him a good grade, just because I liked him.  
I always felt a little nervous around Squall though. I had known him for years, and I was as close to him as any of his closest friends, which isn't saying much. He made me cry so many times, but I still pined over him and wished he would only return my feelings.  
  
Chapter 37  
In Which Quistis Trepe Finds Out What is Going to be Sold for the  
Fundraiser  
  
Turns out this time we were selling... silver ware and dishes. The irony of that killed me. Really, I would have never predicted that.  
"Quick, I need you to put on this spoon costume!" Cid said, holding up a spoon that he had cut crudely out of gray poster board. There was a hole in it that I assumed my face was supposed to go through.  
"You have GOT to be kidding me!" I said. "We're selling silver ware?"  
"Yep, and you're playing the part of the spoon in our little skit. Mr. Ian Woon was going to do it, but, well, you know what happened to him..."  
"Um, I don't believe I was at any of the rehearsals. I have no clue what the hell I would do in the skit." Gods, it was bad enough I dressed up like a Hershey's kiss last September for the candy sale assembly. And then some of the other teachers dressed up as M&Ms and acted out those commercials. Gods, it was scary. That was one example of a time I didn't do diddly squat. My home room hated me for a while because I kept bothering them to sell more candy so that we would win a prize, and I wasn't doing anything myself. And they wouldn't take the typical, "I'm a SeeD, I'm too busy to sell candy" excuse.  
"Come on, Quistis! It's for a good cause."  
"NO! I am not going to dress up as a freakin' spoon!"  
"What if I raise your SeeD rank a level for doing it?"  
"Alright, we have a deal," I said, taking the crappily made costume from him. It was incredibly easy to put on: all I had to do was put my face through the hole he cut and tie a couple of strings behind to hold the piece of paper up. "Now what the hell am I supposed to do in this skit?"  
"Well, did you see that episode of Mr. Rogers where they did the opera 'Spoon Mountain'?"  
"No..."  
"Okay, I'll show you the video while the other instructors explain what the fund raiser is going to be."  
What I found more pathetic than the fact that we were doing a tacky assembly was the fact that Cid actually had that episode of Mr. Rogers on tape, and the tape was in his office.  
I really don't think I need to elaborate on how horribly embarrassing it was to get up in front of several hundred cadets wearing that ridiculous costume and playing the part of the spoon. If it weren't for the huge raise in my salary, there's no way I would have done it. I felt especially stupid because now it looked like this fund raiser was partially my idea, even though I had just found out about it minutes earlier. And I thought this was totally stupid: we were too cheap to use actual silver ware ourselves, and here we were going to try to sell silver ware to people who were probably rich enough that they already owned silver ware.  
The only good thing was that everyone cheered really loudly and clapped for about ten minutes straight when I walked out in Cid's stupid costume. The audience participation was really amazing. It did a number on my credibility though. I would have to look and act very strict and professional for a few weeks now to undo that silly image of me. It was hard for me to be a bitch when there were so many handsome boys in my class though. I wanted to be nice so that they would like me, but I still had to keep my distance and keep up appearances. It was a fine line to walk.  
Just when I had come up with that plan, my hopes of looking extra- strict for a while were ruined: Cid announced that we were having another Spirit Week, just like we had in September. Now, let me explain one little thing: Spirit Week in Balamb Garden was always way over the top. You see, when you have a large group of teenagers who normally have to wear the same boring navy blue and white outfit day after day, and then suddenly give them the opportunity to wear costumes, they go wild with it. For people who can wear what they want day after day, Spirit Week is no big deal. I had heard that in normal schools, no one cared if it was Spirit Week or not. But in this case, everyone went nuts except for people like Squall. I always begged him to wear a costume, since it would give our home room more points, but he never did it. One time we actually lost the contest by a few points, and if he had worn costumes we would have gotten to go to a movie and then out to lunch at a nice restaurant for getting the most points in the contest. Everyone hated Squall for a while when that happened. Even I hated him for a little while. But then I sort of felt guilty about it after wards. I was supposed to be the adult, but I got pulled into a stupid contest like all the students.  
Anyways, the first day was denim and leather day, which was a little too easy for me. The only problem was wondering whether or not what I was planning on would be appropriate...  
  
Chapter 38  
No Fic is Complete With out Random Quistis Bondage!!!!  
  
I had an outfit that was completely made out of leather, but it was a little bit edgy. There were long, black leather boots with 3 inch heels, black leather gloves that reached above my elbows, and a leather corset. And that was it. I thought I looked quite sexy in it, especially with these two little straps that held the boots up almost to the bottom of the corset-like garment. The bottom of the corset was like a skimpy swim suit.  
I looked in the mirror real quick, but on some deep red lipstick and thick mascara, then picked up my whip and the things I needed for class, and walked out of my room. I wasn't too obsessive about makeup, but this outfit required at least that much. I felt like another person dressed like this; I should have been nervous to wear it but really it made me feel confident. I felt like I was in control over everyone.  
No one else seemed to go with my approach to denim and leather day; they were all wearing blue jeans and normal-looking clothes. Needless to say, I turned quite a few heads walking down the hall like that. I got about a million whistles and cat calls as I was walking to homeroom, and when I walked in, everyone cheered.  
"Miss Trepe, you look gorgeous!" one of the boys exclaimed when I walked in. He was wearing blue jeans and a leather jacket. Pretty standard compared to my Hell Fire Club inspired outfit. I have no idea why I bought that thing; it was an impulse buy at a BDSM store. And I don't see any reason to elaborate on why I was in a BDSM store.  
"Why, thank you," I said, smiling seductively.  
"Can I take your picture?"  
"Sure, hold on a second," I said, setting my books down on my desk. I sat down on the desk, crossing on leg over the other and flashing my sexiest smile at the boy with the camera.  
"Oh my gosh, Miss Trepe, if you win best costume for the day we'll get fifty points!"  
"Well," I said, picking up my whip, "I'm sure I can do a little negotiating."  
Everyone cheered. They thought it was great that I participated at all, since it was worth twenty five points when a teacher dressed up with the theme. There were also five points awarded for each student who dressed with the theme, but most of the points actually came from selling crap. I was happy to see that everyone so far was in costume, since my home room was a bunch of lazy morons, at least when it came to fund raisers.  
Then Squall tried to walk in wearing his regular uniform. Everyone screamed and ran to the door, trying to push him out.  
"What the hell?" he yelled.  
"We're gonna lose five points if you don't dress up!!!" one of the girls screamed. A few kids tried to slam the door so that Squall couldn't get in until he at least put on a pair of jeans.  
"Miss Trepe, HELP! He's trying to get in!" One of the girls shrieked.  
"Calm down, this is about selling silver ware, not about bothering Squall."  
"But don't you wanna get a day off?"  
"You have a point there," I said, standing up and grabbing my whip. I walked over to the door as quickly as I could without tripping in those heels. Everyone moved aside so that I could stand in the door way facing Squall. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped when he saw what I was wearing. "Squall..." I said sternly, glaring at him and snapping my whip randomly in the air. Everyone moved back slightly. "Get a costume on. NOW!"  
He stared at me with his arms crossed, pouting. "This is stupid."  
"Look, if I can do this so can you."  
"Looking like a bondage model isn't getting us any money," he said.  
"The hell it isn't!" I said a bit too loudly. That costume really gave me a dominant presence. "I mean, the point here isn't logic. The point here is getting a day off. Now come on," I said, grabbing his upper arm. Those heels made me an inch taller than him.  
He punched me, knocking me against the wall. I damn near lost my balance with those shoes, but braced myself against the wall just in time. I was still holding my whip, so I hit him lightly. It didn't really hurt him, but everyone got a kick out of that.  
"I love you Quistis!" one of the boys yelled.  
"Alright, let's see what you have in your room," I said, grabbing his arm again and dragging him down the hall. Everyone either giggled or gave me cat calls as I dragged him towards the elevator.  
"I don't think you're allowed in my room---"  
"Nonsense. If anyone asks, I was helping you with your homework. Now let's get you in some acceptable clothes."  
I actually went through with dragging him back to his room. As soon as we were in there, he tried to run off so I couldn't make him change. I grabbed the neck of his jacket, pulled him back and threw him onto the bed. Of course I couldn't resist climbing on top of him and saying, "You're not going anywhere." I quickly tied his wrist to the bed frame while I was looking through his closet. I saw his black leather jacket that he always wore, but for some reason his pants were missing. "Squall, where the hell are your pants?" I asked in frustration.  
"I'm not telling you," he said. This time he didn't sound sullen though. It sounded more like a come-on. "You'll have to force it out of me."  
"Oh really?" I said, waving my whip around and snapping it loudly. "That can be arranged."  
"Do your worst..."  
"Oh, I will..." I said, stepping closer. The sexual tension was swiftly rising between us. So much for the rumor that Squall was gay. I crawled up onto the bed, dragging the whip behind me. "You're gonna tell me where those pants are, mister!" I said, whipping him.  
"They're..."  
I pulled off him jacket the best I could. I was so close to him that I could have kissed him right there and then if I wanted to.  
"I'm not gonna tell. You'll have to do better than that."  
"Well you aren't going anywhere until you tell me," I said, tying his other wrist to the bed frame. He didn't even struggle. "By the way," I whispered, "the safety word is 'muffin'."  
He laughed his ass off as soon as I said that, then we went right back to our little game.  
  
Chapter 39  
In Which Quistis Trepe Stops Daydreaming  
  
"Are you gonna talk or do I have to force it out of you?" I said seductively, waving my whip around.  
"Don't try to negotiate with me!" he said, trying not to giggle about the safety word. I whipped him again, demanding that he explain the location of the pants.  
"You're gonna have to get rid of these pants first," he said. So I pulled him pants off.  
Then I woke up. I had been day dreaming and the students were still crowding around the door. I sighed and walked over. "Squall, go back to your room right now and change!" I said.  
"Wow, what side of the BDSM store did you wake up on?" he asked.  
"Shut up!" I said, cracking my whip in the air. "A bad taste costume is better than no costume! Now go back to your room or I'll give you a detention for skipping home room."  
"But---"  
"NOW!" I yelled, snapping the whip again. He actually went back to his room to change, then came back a few minutes later with his leather jacket that he always wore.  
"Squall, where are your leather pants?" I demanded to know.  
"Cthulhu mailed them to Galbadia!" he said in annoyance.  
"Squall! You have to wear those!" I begged. "If you win best costume for the day, we get fifty points! PLEEESE wear the leather pants!" I would have gotten down on my knees if it were possible in that costume.  
"I can't! He mailed them to Galbadia!"  
I glared at Cthulhu, who was wearing blue jeans and a NaNoWriMo t- shirt. "Thanks a lot, Cthulhu!" He looked a little scared when I yelled at him, but that's probably because my fist was tightly clenched around that whip still. I was tempted to use it on him. Very tempted.  
"It's not my fault I owed those guys more pants than I had!"  
"Cthulhu, you may have just cost us a day off. Now what do you have to say to that?"  
"Come on, it's only the first day. Besides, I thought this was about selling crap, not about what pants Squall is wearing."  
"EVERYTHING has to do with Squall's pants!" I yelled, snapping the whip against the floor. He jumped back several feet at the noise. "You better hope for your sake I win best costume!"  
I didn't win best outfit though, probably because it was so tasteless, and because teachers couldn't win costume of the day anyways. But I know that if Squall had worn those sexy pants, the fifty points would have gone to my home room. Instead it went to one of the younger classes. That pissed me off. I was pathetically competitive about this, since every year since I started at Garden my homeroom had always lost the fund raisers. In September, I had promised my home room that I wasn't going to lose again. And then Squall made us lose that time. I was really pissed about that, since I had spent so much time pulling together costumes for myself. This time, I was determined that we were going to win. So I gave Cthulhu a week of detention for stealing Squall's pants and mailing them to Galbadia. I was rather shocked when Squall approached me after everyone had left home room.  
"Thanks, Quistis," he said.  
"For what?"  
"Paying that ass hole back. You have no idea how much trouble he's caused me!"  
"It was my pleasure," I said, putting my arms around his waist and holding him tightly for a second. I don't think he appreciated that, but it was so tempting to hug him when he was that close. "By the way, tomato is decades day. Don't forget that."  
"Uh... I don't think I have any vintage clothes."  
"Ok, meet me in the quad after classes. You know the stage? There's a costume storage room right near it. We'll steal some stuff from there, alright?"  
"Won't everyone else have the same idea by the time we get there?"  
"You're right," I said, thinking it over. "Ok, I'll write you a pass then. I can come up with a bull shit excuse if my next class wonders where I am, so we can go raid the costume storage room"  
"You sure?"  
"Hey, it's better than actually selling silver ware, isn't it?"  
"The irony of that kills me. Anyways, I better not skip class. See you later," he said, walking out. It depressed me slightly when he just carelessly walked out on me like that. I was hoping for a little adventure. Since it wasn't going to be as fun without him, I didn't rush off to raid the storage room and skip class. I was slightly uncomfortable with the next class because it was a bunch of beginning magic-users, about age 13 or so. They didn't know whether to laugh or be scared at my slutty leather ensemble. I found out what they thought of it half way through the next period when Cid called me to his office.  
  
Chapter 40  
In Which Quistis Trepe Sits on Cid's Desk  
  
I walked in boldly, stiletto heels clicking. hair hanging over one eye, holding a whip as I had been all day. "You called for me?" I asked in my normal tone. It was rather incongruous, and Cid didn't know what to make of it.  
"Yes, I needed to, er... talk about your, um, attire, Miss Trepe."  
"You know you can call me Quistis."  
"Yes, of course. Take a seat, will you Quistis?"  
I sat down on his desk, twisting slightly so that I was looking at him. "I'm sorry, this is too tight. I can't bend enough to sit in a normal chair."  
"That's exactly what I need to talk to you about. I overheard several people talking about you between classes. Quistis, I'm going to be straight forward about this: you can't come to class dressed like that." He was talking to me like I was a little girl again. It was degrading, since it had taken him a while to think of me as an adult. You see, when I was three years old I ended up in his orphanage, and part of him still saw me as that little three-year-old who kept asking him where my parents were. It took me several years to understand what death was and what had happened to my parents, so I used to ask him and Matron when my parents were coming back. "I know you're probably excited about Spirit Week, but that's no reason to strut around looking like a... a..."  
"Porn star?" I said, since he wasn't going to say it.  
"I don't want to hear 13-year-old boys talking about how they could see... um, let me put it this way: that outfit leaves nothing to the imagination. I can see the embroidery on your underwear. And it's Monday, not Saturday, by the way."  
"Oh, well actually I did change my underwear this morning, but see, my days of the week underwear is sort of mixed up right now because---"  
"Ok, I don't need to know why I can see that particular design under that leather. That's not my point. My point is that you know that if you had worn that a year ago, I would have punished you for that. What makes you think things are any different now?"  
"Come on, I was just trying to give my home room twenty five points!"  
"Well, your home room just lost twenty five points. And I'm demoting you a level."  
"WHAT? You mean that spoon costume was for nothing?"  
"If you want to put it that way."  
I knew I shouldn't have been too upset, since Cid and I got along well and he'd promote me again in no time, but it really upset me when he said that. I was good at seeming calm and even unemotional; it was part of my job. But I wasn't a hardened, emotionless fighter. After all, being part of SeeD was only my day job. It totally clashed with my Romance writing job, but no one knew about that side of me.  
I stood in the elevator and tried to hold back my tears of frustration. I had everything so blown up in my mind, and all he really wanted me to do was put on a skirt and a shirt that would cover me better. It was reasonable, but I had been so sure that morning when I got dressed that I would win fifty points, even if I was a teacher, and instead I had lost twenty five points. But I would make up for that tomato, I told myself. Maybe I was far too lazy to try to sell silver ware, but I made up my mind to wear the best damn costume ever worn for decades day. And I would find Squall a damn good costume as well.  
First thing after my last class of the day, I nearly ran to the costume storage room. I had a huge advantage over the other people who planned to steal costumes for tomato because I had the key to the closet. I tried to get in without anyone noticing, but of course Zell ran up to me and asked what happened to the costume I was wearing earlier.  
"Cid made me take it off," I said, turning bright red and facing away from him. I turned on the light and looked at all the costumes in there. There weren't too many, since the school had only been around since '85 and we hadn't done too many plays. I flipped through the rack of costumes that was hanging in there while Zell and I were talking.  
"Aw, that sucks."  
"No shit, he demoted me a rank!" I said, pulling a 1920's dress off the rack and holding it up. It looked much too small for me, so I put it back without even trying it on. "Not that I can't be really good, do a few things for Cid here and there and convince him to promote me. But still, I thought it was a good costume."  
"Speaking of good costumes, what are you doing?"  
"Trying to find something for decades day. We can do any decade, right? It doesn't have to be 20th century I hope," I said, pulling a simple mid-19th century dress off the rack. It looked like it would be huge on me.  
"Well technically, you could even throw on a bed sheet like a toga and say it's a really old decade-- in fact, I'm gonna do that!"  
"Good idea, I might do that too if I---" Then I saw it. There was a very delicate looking dress from the late 1700s, and it was about my size. It wasn't entirely accurate of course; there was a zipper down the back and the fabric was synthetic. Plus it was quickly made, and I couldn't find the undergarments to go with it. "Hey Zell, have you seen any panniers around here?" I asked, looking through the disorganized pile of old props.  
"What the hell are panniers?"  
"You know, those things that go under your skirt."  
"Like... a slip?"  
"No, it's made with wire," I said, moving things from one pile to another. I recognized the set that I painted six years ago.  
"You mean those big round things?"  
"That's a hoop, Zell. There's a big damn difference."  
"'cuz there's a big round wire thing right there."  
"Well that doesn't go with this style dress. I need panniers dammit!!! I'm going to win costume of the day if it kills me!"  
"But you can't win, you're a teacher."  
"Then why don't you wear this for me?"  
"It wouldn't fit." Ha. What a lame excuse. He was just afraid to cross-dress.  
"Dammit, where the hell are the freakin'---" as I was saying that, a huge set that was up against the wall fell down, and started to crush what looked like a pile of wires. "My panniers!" I yelled, jumping towards them.  
"Quistis!" Zell screamed, pushing the set back up.  
"Oh, SHIT!" I yelled, completely ignoring the fact that he had just saved my life. "They're ruined!"  
"I'm sure it's nothing you can't fix with a little duct tape," Zell said, examining the mangled panniers.  
"Do you happen to have duct tape?"  
"I never leave home without it!" he exclaimed, pulling out a roll of duct tape.  
"Perfect!" I exclaimed. "I love you, duct tape!"  
"Um, Quistis---"  
"See you later Zell, I've got a costume to fix!" I said, picking up the dress and the mass of wires all in a big heap and walking out. "Don't forget to sell that silver ware!" I said as I turned off the light.  
  
Chapter 41  
In Which Quistis Trepe Fixes a Pair of Panniers with Duct Tape  
  
It took me three hours to fix those damn panniers. Three. This was getting ridiculous, since I could have gotten the twenty five points just wearing a toga or something. But no, when I thought of how excited my home room would be to see me in this dress, I couldn't resist fixing it with duct tape. Basically I pulled all the wires into place and then used strips of duct tape instead of strips of fabric. One side was totally crushed, so I used a big wad of duct tape to re-shape it. It wasn't perfect, but they looked pretty even when I tried the dress on. It looked pretty on me, I thought, even if it didn't quite fit me. The sleeves were supposed to go to my elbows, but they were a couple of inches short. Fortunately that wasn't noticeable because there was a wide, gathered piece of lace at the bottom of each sleeve. The neck line was a little bit low, but it was supposed to be that way probably. The dress looked familiar from somewhere. I knew I had seen something like it somewhere; white lace with blue ribbons, but with a different style skirt. But I couldn't place it at the moment.  
On top of trying to fix those panniers, I had to come up with a lesson plan for the next day, so there was my excuse for not selling silver ware. I know I was being a lazy bitch, because Cid was really hoping we would sell 50,000 sets of silver ware in a month. Ha. Like that was going to happen. I can't speak for most of the school, but I knew that me and my friends were never going to be able to sell anything. You see, we had the junior members to compete against. And they always made better sales because when people saw a cute little kid walk up to their door and try to sell them stuff, it was a lot more effective than someone like Squall doing it. If anyone asked, I was coming up with a strategy to sell silver ware. Maybe people would pay more attention to me if I wore that leather outfit while going door-to-door instead of wearing my casual pink outfit...  
It was like a scrambled time machine when I walked into home room the next day. Did I ever tell you about the time Squall and I found a time machine in the training center?  
The time machine we found wasn't your typical big huge box with lots of buttons type thing. It was a CD-ROM that was labeled "time machine." At first we thought it was a game, but then we looked at the packaging and found out it actually was a time machine. So we took it to my room and tried to install it on my lap top, but it wouldn't work. I had Windows 98 and the program was designed for Windows 95. It was sickening. We almost had access to every event in history, and all we got were tons of error messages when we tried to install it. I finally ejected the disk and threw it across the room yelling in frustration, "What the hell good is a time machine if it only works on Windows 95?" It didn't shatter, it just landed in a pile of my dirty laundry. Hey, I didn't really have time for laundry since my job took up so much time. Ever wonder why I wore the same damn outfit for weeks in Final Fantasy 8? Because the damn Laundromats are a waste of GP! Maybe that's why Squall wasn't attracted to me... but then again, everyone else did the same thing. So it's not like Rinoa smelled any better than me.  
Now where the hell was I before I started talking about my laundry? Oh, right. Decades Day.  
"Miss Trepe, you look gorgeous!" one of the boys said when I walked in. I got that a lot. But I still wondered why no one would just ask me on a fucking date already. I mean, I wasn't going to bite their heads off or something if they wanted to ask! Or maybe they only pretended to think I was pretty because they were kissing ass. Talk about teacher's pets though, there was actually this group called the "Trepies". It was flattering, but I sort of wondered about their social lives. Maybe no one asked me out because they sort of knew that I had had a crush on Squall for six years now. But then again, that didn't stop me from cybering with anyone and everyone, or from reading and writing smutty novels, or putting up yaoi posters all over my walls. After all, if Squall wasn't going to ask me out there were plenty of ways to compensate for not having a boy friend.  
Speaking of Squall, I was anxious to see what he had come up with for decades day.  
  
Chapter 42  
In Which Quistis Trepe Finds Out What Squall Leonheart Has in Store for  
Decades Day  
  
As several people were snapping pictures of me, Squall walked in quietly, trying to not be noticed. Of course everyone cheered when he walked in because he actually had on some old-fashioned clothes.  
It reminded me of a drawing I saw once of Firion of Fynn. Squall was wearing a bandana, a long red cape, knee-high boots, a tight red shirt, and no pants. Of course Firion didn't wear pants either. I laughed my ass off when I saw him without pants for probably the millionth time. Well technically he didn't go around pants-less too much any more, but he used to do that at least once a day when he was younger. I mean much, much younger. When he was two he liked to run around Cid and Edea's orphanage with no pants. It was quite amusing to watch Matron chasing him around with a tiny pair of pants in her hands and Squall screaming "No pants!" and running as fast as he possibly could. But then he would always trip clumsily and she'd be able to hold him long enough to get his pants on. He hated it when I told people about that. It was lucky for him when the GFs temporarily wiped out my memory.  
Now if you want a really funny memory, I remember this little game that Irvine and Selphie liked to play called "Water Babies". One time they saw this short little Disney cartoon with these little babies that came out of water lilies and ran around playing with nothing on but a little flower on their head like a hat. I have no idea what the animators were thinking when they made that cartoon; there was no coherent talking or anything in it. It was just music and these little "water babies" as Selphie called them running around. Now, I can't say I wasn't influenced by movies. I used to pretend I was Cinderella and Irvine was the prince. But Selphie liked to immitate that little cartoon. So her and Irvine spread blankets out on the floor like the open water lilies, then got naked and acted out the cartoon. Matron tried to stop them, so they hid their clothes and she had to look all over the place before she could dress them. It was especially bad the time Selphie was on a huge sugar high and threw her clothes into the ocean. And then a couple who had been thinking of adopting her dropped by and changed their minds. You can imagine how frustrating that was for Matron. Fortunately they outgrew that around age three. But Selphie never outgrew her addiction to sugar, or her obsession with trains.  
So I had seen Squall without pants many, many times. It was cute when he was little though. This time it just looked stupid.  
"Squall, what the hell decade is that?"  
"Um... I dunno, when was Firion born?"  
"Squall, get some pants on."  
"But Firion doesn't wear pants."  
"This is decades day, not dress like Firion day! There's a reason why Cid didn't want to have a dress like Firion day."  
"Hey, we look like Firion and Maria!" he exclaimed randomly.  
"No we..."  
"Well not the same Firion and Maria though. Like Firion and Maria the opera singer, not like Firion and Maria with the purple hair."  
"Uh-huh...." So that's where I had seen this dress before.  
"By the way, Maria didn't wear panniers under her dress. She wore a hoop."  
"I knew I was right!" said Zell, who was wearing a toga.  
"Whatever." I sort of wished I had actually coordinated costumes with Squall. It would have been so cute and couple-ish. I always wished Squall and I were a couple... You know what, he even ignored me when we were little kids. He would play dress up with Ellone and pretend he was a prince or whatever, but then when I wanted to play pretend with him, he was always "too busy." Ok, it is not possible for a four-year-old to be too busy to play. Well, maybe he was too busy because he was driving Matron insane. Heh, little wonder she went nuts and tried to kill us in Final Fantasy 8. I think Cid was on the right track: start a military school so we couldn't drive Matron crazy by running around and imitating Disney movies any more. Anyways, I always wanted to play dress up with Squall when I was little. There was this blue sparkly evening gown that Edea had worn to her prom in high school, and she let me borrow it now and then to play with because she knew I would be careful and not destroy her dress. The other girls were jealous because I was the only one that Matron could trust with her old prom dress. I would always try to talk Squall into playing pretend with me when I had it on, but then he would refuse. I would start crying, but then Irvine would play with me instead. He was a very romantic little four-year-old. We always danced together, and we had used the same record so many times that it skipped. But I still wished that Squall would pretend to go to a ball with me because he was a good dancer.  
This was really cool though; Squall and I had almost coordinated costumes without even discussing it before hand. Well at least we were indirectly coordinating outfits.  
  
Chapter 43  
In Which Quistis Trepe Takes Her Class to the Training Center  
  
I tried to make sure everyone had an appropriate costume, including myself. I really did. I told Squall he could easily switch decades by leaving the bandana on and then putting on his jacket and some of those crappy pants he had been wearing all the time recently. I mostly did that so that we wouldn't lose another twenty five points due to inappropriate attire, but also so that Squall and I would both be characters from the same opera. Fourteen years and countless dresses later, I still wanted to play dress up with Squall. Unfortunately, my favorite record was back at the orphanage. Not that I would have randomly dragged Squall into the ball room and put the record on and pretended that I was Cinderella or anything...  
No, I wasn't going to sneak off the ball room with Squall, I told myself. I was going to go ahead with my lesson plan for the day and take Squall, along with the rest of the class to.... the training center. Bet you didn't see that coming (if you didn't, you're an idiot). I really wanted to take them to Disney Land, but you know, we didn't have the money or the time and all that. I felt bad about not taking them to Disney Land because I had said at the beginning of the year that for their senior trip I would take them to Disney Land. And technically I wasn't lying, even though I never did take the senior class to Disney Land. You see, no one in Balamb Garden took class trips. Not only were we too busy, we were too cheap. Cid's excuse for never having class trips was that when they became SeeDs they would get to see the world anyways. So if anyone in my class went to Disney Land, it would be thanks to me. Yeah. Actually, I was still waiting for the day that Disney Land would get attacked by Galbadian troops so I could go there. It was awful, but I truly hoped that a crazed sorceress would possess Mickey Mouse or something so I could go to Disney Land.  
So I didn't take them to Disney Land and I didn't let on that I was thinking about Disney Land all through class. I didn't help them fight at all that day. Not because they needed to learn from experience, but because there was no way I could fight in that dress. Heck, for once I wasn't even carrying my whip around with me. It left sort of an emptiness to not have it with me constantly, like I was missing something important. The funny thing about the way I carried it around was that I didn't really think about it any more. Everyone thought I looked really tough because it was always visible during class and people saw me walking around in the halls with that thing. But really, I only used it on monsters! No one believed me when I said that. They insisted that I actually used it to keep students in line. Of course I didn't because the boys always said crap like, "If I keep being disruptive, are you gonna use that kinky whip on me?" It was so obnoxious. And since they obviously wanted me to use it, I didn't. The only ones who didn't pester me about the fact that I carried a whip were the younger, less perverted students and the ones who knew me so well that they didn't even care any more. Like Squall. He was the only boy in his whole damn class that never tried to make me "use that kinky whip" on him. The one guy that I really wanted to notice me. Maybe he just had a cleaner mind, but I highly doubt that.  
Everything was going fine, even without me fighting. I mean, those monsters were piss weak. They were annoying as hell with their little sleep attacks and such, but still piss weak. The only thing that was a threat was the T-Rexaurs wandering around farther back in the training center. I didn't plan on moving towards the back of the training center, but I ended up doing that because one of the younger classes came in and I decided they should have the non-T-Rexaur area. In the rare case that we got attacked by a T-Rexaur, I was sure it would be no match for the twenty students in that class.  
Heh, the word "match" reminds me of a joke. One time this guy pulled out a cigarette and asked me if I had a match, so I said, "Yeah, my ass and your face!"  
Anyways. The first thing that happened as soon as I walked into the next room of the training center, with my class following me, was that I saw a huge T-Rexaur barreling towards me. I was still wearing my dress, but I had an idea suddenly: I had learned a survival technique once called "transforming". I didn't use it too often, since normally I wore my SeeD uniform or at least something practical. But it was a good technique nonetheless, and I had to use it this time.  
"Trannssssssssssssform!" I said, spinning around into the air, in a perfect ballet position. I glowed with pink energy as I hovered there, unable to see anything but myself and the flashing pink lights. I held one arm straight out at a diagonal and the sleeve started to unravel as if it were a white ribbon around my arm. It twisted and moved away as I held out the other arm and repeated the same thing. I spun around and my skirt unraveled into a ribbon that floated around me like a spiral, then flew out of the way along with my sleeves. The panniers dissolved into a fine silvery dust and fell down as I flipped around in mid-air, unraveling the bodice of my dress. It, too, floated away as a white ribbon. Finally my high heeled shoes glowed, then fell away as a shimmery mass of dust. I didn't have on anything else, since I wasn't sure if people wore under wear with that kind of dress.  
  
Chapter 44  
In Which Quistis Trepe Defeats the T-Rexaur  
  
I closed my eyes, still floating in the strange pink light, and visualized myself wearing my SeeD uniform and holding my whip. I held one hand out, palm up, then wrapped my hand around the handle of my whip. I delicately brought one leg forward, pointing my toes, and my knee-high black boot started to materialize, growing up my leg.  
"QUISTIS!!! HELP ME!!!" Squall yelled, interrupting my trance.  
I opened my eyes and fell onto the ground abruptly. I didn't actually notice that I was naked until I stood up. I screamed for a split second and put my hands over my breasts, but not soon enough to prevent the whole damn class from seeing me bare naked.  
The T-Rexaur froze for a second, blinked, and let go of Squall. Squall fell quickly and the T-Rexaur just stood there blinking. I stared right back at it. It blinked a third time, then all of a sudden started to fall backwards. It shook the ground violently as it fell. Seeing my breasts exposed must have been too much for it. The entire class stared at me, shocked.  
"What?" I said. "Squall interrupted my transformation sequence!"  
"... I love you, Instructor Trepe..." one of the boys muttered in a hypnotized voice.  
"Now where the hell are my clothes?" I asked, looking for where that dress had gone to. All I saw was a big pile of white ribbon...  
"Teacher, will you marry me?" one of the other boys asked.  
"No," I said, thinking more about the problem of my clothes than all the attention I was suddenly getting. "Oh, dammit all!" I said, picking up the pile of white ribbon. It was awful. It reminded me of the time my VCR ate a tape and the stuff seemed to go on for miles and miles when I tried to pull the tape out.  
"That was awesome..."  
"Be quiet! I need to concentrate on transforming back in order to fix this dress!"  
I started hovering in the air again. This time the light was blue instead of pink, but it was the same idea. I flipped around in the air a few times, then the music started. I put my right hand forward, palm upward, then my left hand. Then I turned my right hand over, then the left. As I was doing the Macarena, the white ribbon started to wrap itself around me, forming a single piece of fabric.  
And now you know why there's no transformation sequences in Final Fantasy 8. Believe it or not, Square actually thought of re-using the system from Final Fantasy 5, but then when they found out about my little transforming incident, they invented a totally new system. But of course when Yuna wanted a transformation sequence, they gave her a whole 'nother game. No, I'm not jealous... it's just that Aeris got to be in a movie and Yuna got two games. And what do I get? Appearances in a crap load of doujinshis and hentais.  
So where was I? Oh, right, the transformation thing. Yeah. Everything would have been fine, except that while I was standing around naked, the instructor for the younger class saw me. Needless to say, she flipped out over the fact that I was naked in the middle of the school day. So half way through the next period I heard an announcement over the PA system: "Quistis Trepe, please report to Headmaster Cid's office."  
"Not again!" I thought. I hated being interrupted half way through class for this kind of thing. It was the same damn story as yesterday, except that I tried to explain the transformation thing and he really didn't get it. He finally gave up and said, "Never mind. Just go back to class." Then without telling me he deducted another twenty five points from my home room. At the end of the day, I listened to the announcement for who was winning. It took them forever to get to Room 217, which was a bad thing, since they were going from highest to lowest.  
"... and finally, lagging way, way behind, is home room 217..."  
"DAMMIT!" I yelled, slamming my fist down on my desk. That settled it: something had to be done. I would have a secret meeting with my home room and come up with a plan to sell as much silver ware as we possibly could... wait, that wasn't all we could do. We still had the room decorating contest and the talent show. Perhaps I could come up with some way that we could win a day off without actually putting any effort into it.  
As I was thinking, Squall and Cthulhu ran by chased by about fifty wood peckers. Gods, what the hell was with all the random animals in this school? That settled it: I was going to go into town for the evening. I was going to go to a nice restaurant for once and use real utensils instead of sporks, even though I didn't even want to think about silver ware at the moment.  
The big event going on that day in Balamb was a mullet pride festival. I'm not kidding; there were big ass banners all over the place advertising the first annual Balamb Mullet Pride Festival. I must have been isolated for a little too long, because I couldn't figure out why the hell mullets from all around the world would want to suddenly converge on Balamb and have a convention. It was pathetic. I was actually bored enough to watch the mullet parade. They had these floats with really big heads that had... you guessed it, mullet hair-dos. And they were selling t- shirts that said things like "We love Mullets" and "Go Macguyver". It was even more messed up than that phase that Squall went through of wearing a t- shirt that said "Psycho Bitch". As much as I adored Squall, I really wondered about him. And this "Psycho Bitch" thing was a recent development, too. If you were paying attention to him while he was narrating his life, you would know exactly what I'm referring to.  
  
Chapter 45  
In Which Quistis Trepe Leaves the Mullet Festival  
  
I got tired of the mullet festival pretty quickly. After all, I wasn't a mullet myself and didn't find mullets all that interesting. So I got back to what I originally intended to do: going out to dinner at a place that had decent utensils and no animals running around. Don't get me wrong; I loved animals. It just bothered me that the school was infested by things that randomly ran through the building never to be seen again. Like there used to be this neon pink cat named Pooky. She was really cute, and we used to have long meaningful conversations together. In fact, she had lots of advice about my love life.  
One time I was writing and she walked into my dorm room covered in post-it notes.  
"What the heck..."  
"I took a job as office cat," Pooky explained. "See? I carry around notes for people. If there's anything you want me to say to Cid, just write it on a post-it note and stick it somewhere. There's still room on my ass I think."  
I wrote down "Note to Cid: the teacher's lounge is lousy!" and stuck the note onto Pooky.  
"So, what are you up to, Quistis?"  
"Oh, nothing. Day dreaming, writing a steamy sex scene, the usual."  
"Can I see that?" Pooky asked, jumping up onto my desk.  
"Sure," I said. I wasn't too secretive or protective of my work, even my corny sex scenes. Well, at least not around Pooky. I would absolutely drop dead if anyone else read an excerpt from one of my novels in front of me. One time I accidentally attacked a guy because I caught him looking over my shoulder during study hall and I was writing a love scene and it took him several days to recover from the beating. But that was the only time I randomly attacked someone with my whip, I swear! WHY DON'T YOU BELIEVE ME?  
"See, Quistis, the problem with your sex scenes is that you're obviously a virgin. Like this part: 'She pulled her skirt up so high that he could see her hot pink thong. He threw the Game Boy aside and ran to the airplane bathroom with her, reciting sonnets on the way. Someone else was on the crapper already when they got to the back of the plane. 'Get out!' Zendel said, banging on the door loudly. He couldn't keep it in his pants much longer.' Like, what the hell were you on when you wrote this? Air plane sex is so out!"  
"I thought it was pretty risqué myself..."  
"Just because it's risqué doesn't mean it's good!" Pooky explained. "It's totally unrealistic. First of all, one second Zendel is playing Game Boy and ignoring Kathryna and the next he's so horny he can hardly control himself. And why is a girl from a prehistoric era who was frozen in time wearing a hot pink thong? And how the hell would Zendel spontaneously start reciting sonnets?"  
"Uh... I dunno."  
"Ok, then it goes on... they're in the air plane bathroom... ' "Oh yes... yes... YES!" Kathryna screamed. She had both legs around him now and was clinging to his neck. It was cramped in there, but it only made them sweat more and get even more wet. She kissed his again and he kept thrusting harder and harder. And then it came. The big O. The Orgasm. Everyone on the plane heard her when it came. A few old ladies fainted. Zendel kept on cumming and cumming, and she kept on moaning.' Here's a little piece of advice, Quistis: it's just not hot when you talk objectively and matter-of-factly about sex. This sounds to me like a virgin that's read too many steamy novels herself. I mean, you're not supposed to say that Kathryna is having an orgasm, you're supposed to describe the orgasm. Make the reader feel like they're having an orgasm. Show, don't tell."  
"But... uh... I never, um, you know, had one."  
Pooky rolled her green little kitty eyes. "Then why the hell are you writing this?"  
"To compensate for my lack of any real relationships, duh! I wouldn't be writing about orgasms if I were off getting an orgasm from Squall!"  
"You know, good writers write from experience."  
"Oh, so I suppose if I wanted to write a murder mystery instead of a steamy sex novel I would have to go kill someone to see what it's like?"  
"That's different Quistis. It just sounds really cheesy when you basically say 'Zendel thrusted repeatedly and gave Kathryna an orgasm.' It's cheesy. It's stupid. That's not sexy, that's just plain raunchy."  
"So?"  
"No publisher in their right mind would publish this crap."  
I shrugged. "I don't need to get published. I'm already a Balamb Garden instructor. So there."  
"Yes, but your true passion lies in writing, not in your day job. I mean, obviously you love being a SeeD. I can tell you love the excitement, the prestige, the travel opportunities, all the sexy men in uniforms--- I mean, my Gods! It's like every woman's dream to be surrounded by sexy men in uniform, all day every day!"  
"Especially the expensive, tailored ones..." I said. Pooky was so right. I mean, day in and day out I got to be around sexy men in uniforms. And they were sexy uniforms, too. I mean, it's a universal rule that men in uniforms are sexy. But then some uniforms are just naturally sexier than others, and the guys at Balamb Garden had an exceptionally sexy uniform. I can't even explain what I'm trying to say. Basically, a picture is worth a thousand words. I had this picture of Squall on my wall:  
  
I know it was really stupid, but one time I had a camera with me so I randomly snapped a picture of him. He didn't smile for the picture or anything, but I thought it was really cute and had an enlargement of it on my wall. Now, unless you're a straight guy or a complete dyke, you cannot tell me that he doesn't look sexy in that uniform! Of course Squall looked sexy no matter what he was wearing. He didn't even try to be sexy, just his very existence was sexiness personified. Look at him! He was freakin' over flowing with sexiness!  
So just picture yourself in a school that was mostly boys, and then picture them all dressed like that and you get the idea.  
  
Chapter 46  
In Which Quistis Trepe Begins to Near the End of This Fanfic  
  
Sex with Squall sex with Squall sex with Squall......  
Oh, wait, I was talking about Pooky, my unofficial editor. Ah, good ol' Pooky. Yes, Pooky had pretty much summarized all the perks of my job. Besides incredible prestige and status, and the excitement of fighting battles all over the world, I was surrounded by sexy men in uniforms. Sexy men were arguably the best part of being a SeeD, because they totally outnumbered the chicks. That gave me more attention from sexy men. But not Squall of course. What the hell was his problem, anyways? I have no idea why I obsessed over him so much when there were hundreds of other guys who did notice that I existed.  
"Anyways," Pooky said, "A part of you dreams of being a published novelist some day. However, you won't admit it because you know that your current job is much more respectable, and it pays a lot better."  
"And don't forget the sexy men in uniform part."  
"Right. Anyways, my point is that if you ever want to get published, and I know you do, you'll have to write something at least half-way decent. I suggest not writing any more about orgasms until you actually find out what an orgasm is. I know this is sort of a personal question, but have you ever even watched an explicit movie?"  
"You mean, like, a porno or something?"  
"Basically."  
"Uh, actually I haven't. In fact, I saw my first R-rated movie last month."  
"See Quistis, you're an innocent maiden trying to write like a slut. It just doesn't work!"  
"But... don't all my sexual fantasies about Squall count as experience?"  
"Um... I guess it depends on what you're picturing yourself doing with Squall. Like, do you guys keep your clothes on when you're fantasizing about him? Tell me about some of these fantasies."  
"Ok, so there's this one where I'm wearing Edea's prom dress and Squall and I are alone in the ball room together. All of a sudden, the song 'Smoke Gets in Your Eyes' starts playing--- because that's the song I liked to dance to when I was little. So then Squall puts his hand on my waist---"  
"Oh yeah, gettin' REAL risqué there, you're listening to music from the '30s and he touches your waist! See what I mean? You are SUCH a virgin!"  
"I'm not finished yet!" I said, annoyed with Pooky rubbing it in my face that I had never done it. "So then we dance."  
"And then does he take his pants off?"  
"Er... no. We dance. And then, as the music slows down, I bend backwards and he leans towards me. As I come up, our eyes meet, and I finally see him smile at me. He draws me closer to him... and then we kiss."  
"And that's it?"  
"Yes, that's it."  
"Alright, write a story based on that little fantasy then. I guarantee you, it will be better than this crap!"  
I wonder what ever happened to Pooky. I miss being able to ask her for advice. She knew so much-- not just about writing, but about everything that I ever needed to know. If my makeup looked awful, she would tell me. She knew what clothes looked best on me. She was even the one who suggested that I wear my hair clipped upward in the back but left the front loose so that it would frame my face. She was right about that hairdo; it really was flattering.  
Speaking of hair, I was leaving the mullet convention when this girl ran up to me saying, "Hey, Miss Trepe!"  
I turned around and saw Victoria. "Oh my Gods! What did you do to your hair?" I yelled. Her long, red hair was suddenly a dirty blonde mullet.  
"Oh, that's a wig," she said, taking it off and revealing her waist- length, wavy red hair.  
"Where's Victor?" I asked, since she had started dating him recently.  
"Um... he said he had to help Vickie with her homework. So, uh, what are you up to Miss Trepe?"  
"You can call me Quistis, we're not in school. And I'm not really up to anything. I just wanted to go out to dinner."  
"I'm trying to sell silver ware. Who knows, maybe I can get us a few points. How 'bout you, have you sold anything yet?"  
"Er... no. But would you like to go get something to eat with me?"  
"Sure, I know a great place. It's this steak house--- now, they say that the knife is..." she whispered the word "Psycho."  
"What?"  
"Shhh... the knife is psycho. So don't insult the restaurant, whatever you do," she whispered. "You'll like it, I'm sure."  
I was actually planning to go to the sidewalk cafe, but I had heard that there were recent macaque attacks there. So it was a toss-up between a macaque attack and a psycho steak knife. I went along with Victoria's suggestion. But I really had to wonder why the hell Balamb had such weird restaurants.  
  
Chapter 47  
In Which Quistis Trepe and Victoria Go to a Restaurant  
  
Victoria made a point of exclaiming loudly how good her steak was because she was afraid of being attacked by an evil steak knife. It was surreal. Really.  
"Mmmm... this steak is practically orgasmic!" she said loudly, closing her eyes and getting lost in some other world.  
"So anyways, then I say to Squall, 'this is decade day, not dress like Firion day!' So then he says--- hey, speaking of Squall, what do you think he thinks of me?"  
Victoria shrugged. "I don't think he thinks about girls. Like, if he does he's secretive about it. He's a cutie though. But not as hot as my Victor. I dunno, I just don't go for the quiet angsty types. But hey, whatever boats your float. This is a great restaurant, isn't it?"  
"Yeah, except I don't think I can possibly finish all of this. I don't want to wreck my figure, you know."  
Victoria looked around cautiously, then yelled, "Oh shit!" and ducked under the table.  
"What?" I said, then saw this huge butcher knife flying towards me. I screamed and jumped to the side and it barely missed slashing me in the forehead. I pulled out my whip and attacked it. The knife flew forward and slashed at me. Since this was getting tedious, I just settled the problem by summoning Quezacotl. Of course the lightning storm leveled the entire building, but it got rid of the evil steak knife and was much easier than fighting myself.  
Anyways, Victoria and I spent about an hour going door-to-door together trying to sell silver ware. It was like this: Hi! We're going door-to-door to make you this INCREDIBLE offer! SLAM!!!! Onto the next door. We finally gave up and walked back to Balamb Garden. Of course we would have gone back even if business was going good because we had a secret meeting to get to. Since we were lagging way, waaaaaaaaay behind the rest of the school, I had arranged a secret meeting with my home room after lights-out. It was totally bending the rules, but we were determined to do it. I felt like I was walking into an underground lair as I walked into my room and turned on a flashlight. We didn't turn the over-head lights on because this was such a secret meeting. I flashed it around the room, checking to make sure everyone was there.  
"Squall Leonheart..."  
"Here."  
"Cthulhu Erserelmquesam..."  
"Here."  
It was the same thing I did ever morning, but we were all whispering. We knew we probably wouldn't get caught. What were the chances that Seifer, Raijin and Fujin would randomly walk past my room at mid night? Besides, I could probably get away with this since I was an instructor. But I still had the attitude of a student.  
"Good. Everyone's here. Alright then, let's begin. Have any of you made a successful sale yet?" I got about twenty five "nope"s in reply. "Well, that's what we're here to fix. Anyone have any suggestions?"  
"What if we pulled out a phone book, picked people at random and filled out order forms that way?" Zell suggested.  
"I thought about that, but then what would happen when the bill got mailed to them? Cid would figure out what we did."  
"But that would be after we got the day off, right?"  
"Maybe. But he would still have my ass if I actually encouraged you guys to do that. If we bend the rules, we have to keep it a secret."  
"I have an idea, Miss Trepe!" Cthulhu said. "How about this: you pretend to be a single mom with a three-year-old child who's dying of whatever and insist that you need the money in order to save his life. If you do it convincingly, you can make tons of sales!"  
"That's one possibility..."  
"Ok, I have an idea too," Squall said. "What if those of you who have parents asked them to take the order forms to work and pester people?"  
"My parents refuse to do that for me."  
"Yeah, mine too..."  
"You guys are totally focusing on the wrong things," a voice I vaguely recognized said. I flashed the light in the direction that I heard it from. There was a man standing on the desk who looked like a vampire or something. He was wearing tight black leather pants and a silver sequined shirt. His skin was pale as snow but he had dark hair. I knew I had seen him before, but he definitely wasn't one of my students.  
"Excuse me, who the hell are you and what are you doing in my secret meeting?" I said.  
"Don't mind him," Squall said. "That's just Gackt. He's been free- loading off of me for a number of chapters now. He insisted that no secret meeting was complete without a singer from beyond the grave or something like that."  
"I'm not undead, I'm immortal!" Gackt insisted. "And I have an idea: instead of trying to win this by selling silver ware like a bunch of losers, try to win by blowing everyone's mind at the talent show! I have the perfect idea... a Gackt and Quisty song and dance number!"  
I walked over to him in spite of myself. I just couldn't resist him. He held out his hand and helped me climb up onto the desk with him. It was a little hard since I was wearing stiletto heels.  
"Ok, what do I do?"  
"Just follow me, alright?"  
"Ok..."  
There was suddenly a blue spot light on me and Gackt. I felt a little awkward standing on the desk, facing Gackt. Suddenly, I heard the song "Madrigal", which he had performed before with his band, Malice Mizer. He pulled me towards him, wrapping one arm around my waist and holding the other one out, his fingers slightly entwined with mine.  
He stepped towards me, making me step almost off the desk. Then he moved back and I moved forward. Just when I thought we were going to fall off the desk, he picked me up and spun me around, putting me down on the next desk. I literally felt like I was flying when Gackt held me in the air. He was amazing. It was impressive that he could sing Madrigal and dance with me at the same time, jumping from desk to desk like that. We started to move faster and faster, all around the room without ever touching the floor. It seemed like half the time Gackt had his hands around my waist and was effortlessly picking me up, then setting me down on the other side of him. We twisted and turned in every direction. I spun away from him, jumping from one desk to another, then spinning back towards him. He wrapped his arms around me and dipped me to one side. And the entire time he sang flawlessly.  
As the song ended, we slowed down slightly. He put one hand on my back and the other behind my head. I slid one leg towards him, bringing it between his legs, and bent the other one so much that I was almost on the ground. One hand was on the back of his neck and the other arm was stretched out as the entire class applauded loudly.  
  
Chapter 48  
In Which I'm Close to Saying Bye-Bye to Quisty :(  
  
"Gackt, that was amazing!" I exclaimed, still in that position. "We could kick ass with a dance like that."  
"The trick is getting my band to show up invisibly with their spot lights and everything."  
"Uh... yeah."  
I just have to say one thing about this: Gackt was even weirder than he seemed in his videos. Seriously.  
"You guys, I have an idea!" Squall said, ignoring mine and Gackt's little song and dance number. "Elevator guy said he had a secret! We can torture it out of him!"  
"Elevator Guy? What the hell are you on?" I asked. Instead of answering me, Squall was running towards the door. "What kind of name is Elevator Guy?" I said, running after him.  
"There's this guy that's always in the elevator. Even at 4 AM he's in there! I know because last night I got on the elevator at 4 AM to see if he would be there and he was!" Squall explained as he walked briskly towards the elevator. He pushed the button. The door slid open and there was...  
Nothing.  
"NO!" Squall yelled. "This can't be! Where is he?" He ran into the elevator and looked around bemused. There was no one there.  
"Come on Squall, let's go back to the meeting."  
"I just don't understand... when I don't want to see him he's there talking about how the Beast fucked Mrs. Potts, and when I actually want to see him, he's... gone. What the fuck?"  
I slapped him. "Squall! I won't have you talking like that in front of a lady! Haven't you paid any attention to those etiquette classes? Now come on, let's get back to my room before Seifer, Raijin and Fujin catch us wandering around after lights out!"  
"But Quistis, you don't understand. This guy is ALWAYS there! I don't get it!" Squall rambled as I dragged him back to the room.  
I suddenly had an idea when we got back into the room. "I've got it!" I said. "I'm going to cast a spell for prosperity!" I said. "Does anyone here know where Cid keeps the magically charged lava lamps? I have a plan!"  
"You want us to have a ritual right now?"  
"No, I'm going to do it alone. Trust me, I know how to deal with Freya. Me and her are like best friends. Now where the hell are those lava lamps?"  
If you ask most people, they will tell you that summoning deities is very risky business and that you should never do it. That was true on some level, but really people only thought that because they didn't understand how deities operated. Obviously they felt uncomfortable if you summoned them feeling nervous. The trick was to be casual and make them feel at home in your magic circle, wherever you chose to cast it. Since I felt most comfortable in my own room, that was where I summoned deities. And I knew all about summoning Freya, since she was basically like a close friend of mine.  
As soon as I had the lava lamps I ran to my room to begin the Freya- summoning ceremony. I didn't turn the lights off completely, I just dimmed them slightly. I wasn't one of those stereo-typed Hollywood witches. I knew what I was doing, and it didn't involve completely darkened rooms or even big flowing robes. I just wore my standard pink skirt and blouse combination and left the room partially lit. Then I turned on my CD player, put a bunch of snacks in the middle of the circle and began to light the holy lava lamps.  
"I summon thee, air..."  
Hello darkness my old friend  
I've come to talk with you again...  
I had the song "Sound of Silence" stuck in my head, so I put that on. I knew Freya loved that song as much as I did.  
When I had lit all the lava lamps I stood in the center of the circle, closed my eyes, and imagined Freya before me. I saw the six-foot- tall goddess before me, glowing bright white. Her red-gold hair was down to her knees, and she always wore it loose. She had been doing that since the beginning of time, and never saw any reason to change that. She had a different outfit every time that I saw her though. I had seen her wearing literally everything from a flowing medieval gown to short shorts and a tube top. She was unpredictable like that.  
This time she was wearing a lime green dress with daisies on it. It was short and sleeveless, and obviously had been hanging in her closet for the last forty years. Although her presence was overwhelming, I knew better than to be overly formal with her.  
"Welcome, Freya," I said. She smiled at me and greeted me back.  
"What's up, Quistis?" she asked as we sat down. I immediately offered her the snacks, since deities liked it when I did stuff like that. Little tip: a gift demands a gift. If you summon the Gods, party with them a while so that they owe you something. Then tell them that you want to cast a spell and ask them a favor.  
"Not much," I said.  
"Yeah right, if nothing was going on you wouldn't have summoned me... say, wanna watch 'Dirty Dancing' again?"  
"Ok..." It wasn't like they didn't have DVDs in Valhalla. Freya just liked to watch "Dirty Dancing" when I summoned her because Odin had decided back in the early '90s that he didn't want anyone watching bad '80s movies in his most hallowed hall. It annoyed the hell out of the fallen heroes when Freya insisted that they watch "Dirty Dancing" again. Odin actually threatened to feed his home theatre to Fenrir if Freya didn't stop watching "Dirty Dancing". Then she threatened to feed it to Fenrir if he had one more Super Bowl party in there, so they were sort of even. It must have been awesome to live in Asgard. Not only could they watch TV programs and movies from anywhere and any time on a gigantic TV, they had Asgard Disney Land there. Lucky ducks.  
  
Chapter 49  
In Which Quistis Trepe and Freya Stay Up All Night  
  
I got around to asking Freya for help the next morning. We stayed up all night watching bad '80s movies and giving each other make overs. I sort of pissed her off at 5 AM when I put fluorescent pink lipstick on her for some reason. I have no idea what I was thinking, since I had been up for 24 hours straight and we were high on Mountain Dew and Pixie Sticks. You should have seen how much Mountain Dew she could drink in a night. She was used to drinking out of horns, since she had done that for several centuries, so she had this habit of drinking everything in one gulp. She could go through a six pack of Mountain Dew in a matter of minutes. Needless to say, it was pretty wild staying up all night with a caffeine- high Goddess.  
When I finally got around to asking her for help with this utensil selling situation, she said, "Have you tried all possible mundane means yet?"  
"Well not completely but---"  
"Quistis, what have I told you about using me to compensate for your laziness? Now come on, let's think of an easy mundane way to solve this. Have you tried asking Gackt to autograph the silver ware? You could easily sell more than 50,000 sets if you had Gackt autograph them."  
"Freya, you're a genius!"  
"Well I am a goddess you know!" she said, flipping her long red-gold hair. "And have Gackt perform in the talent show. That will get you ahead. Here, I have a libretto I wrote a while back."  
"I didn't know you write operas."  
"Well, my day job is love goddess, obviously. Writing operas is just a little hobby. Anyways, make sure to tell Squall that his pants are nearer than they may seem," Freya said as she disappeared. I looked at the libretto and realized how perfect Freya was: she knew that each home room only had ten minutes on stage, so she wrote a ten minute opera for us to work with. What a great lady- I mean Goddess. Seriously, monotheists don't know what they're missing out on. Goddesses kick ass. Of course kicking ass is like a prerequisite for being a Goddess though...  
I set to work using Freya's plan immediately. First, I split the class into two groups: talented and non-talented. The talented one practiced with the opera with Gackt and I, and the non-talented ones sold Gackt autographed silver ware sets like there was no tomorrow.  
We kept all of this a secret. We kept up the illusion that we still hadn't gotten off our asses. Not only did my students hide all of their order forms in my room, we all lied and said that for the talent show Squall was going to get up and chug an entire carton of orange juice. Sadly enough, people actually believed that. There was only one slight flaw: Freya wrote her libretto in invisible ink. So we used a little something called plan B...  
Plan B was a little something that I came up with myself. It was inspired by a CD that I listened to all the time and a story that Pooky told me once.  
"Alright, here's the plans," I whispered, opening out a book of sheet music on my desk. I was alone in the room with Gackt and Squall, who were the only other people singing in the show. "It's a little operetta that Pooky wrote. So in memory of my unofficial editor, we're going to debut this for the first time ever- in it's condensed form, of course, since we only have ten minutes on stage. Now, we won't need to worry about costumes, since it's set in modern times. But special effects are a must..." I explained the whole show to them, every song, every dance number, the fog machine, the bright lights... Gackt insisted that he must wear a costume, but Squall was definately cool with wearing his regular clothes.  
"This is awesome, Quistis," he said. I was shocked. This was the first time Squall had ever complimented me on anything. "You've been real great to me, you know, narrating and all. Now instead of laughing at my pants issue, the readers can laugh at your dirty secrets."  
"Re...ders?"  
"Yeah. We are characters in a novel, after all."  
Gackt and I were horrified. "Squall! How dare you say such a thing! We are video game characters, not the figment of some novelist's imagination. And what do you mean they can laugh at my dirty secrets?"  
"Um... they know what you've been thinking. They know what you've been saying. They know more about you than I do."  
"No... No, this can't be!" I yelled, crying and running out of the room.  
  
Chapter 50  
In Which the Kindergarten Sings "I'm too Sexy"  
  
Meanwhile back in communist Russia...  
What? I was just making sure you're paying attention. Actually I'm still in Balamb Garden. I reluctantly took back my job as narrator after I horrified Quistis like that. I lied later and told her that I was only kidding about that novel thing, and we went on with the show. I was nervous as hell about it though. I had always opted out of these talent shows before, but Quistis had begged me to be in her ten minute opera. And singing was easier than arguing with her. Besides, it was better than selling utensils that Gackt had autographed.  
The big day finally came 48 hours later. I was standing back stage with Gackt and Quistis. We had a really crappy back stage and the piano player had spontaneously combusted earlier that after noon, so things were starting to look grim. We kept ourselves occupied and tried to calm our nerves by watching the other classes perform. These talent shows always went from youngest to oldest, so we were the last class on the program, and the kindergarten went first.  
One little boy walked up to the microphone at the front of the stage and fidgeted to get it down to his height. Then he said in a cute little voice, "hi!" Then nothing for a moment.  
"Man, he's so going to win!" I whispered to Quistis.  
With a perfectly straight face he said, "I'm too sexy for my love, too sexy for my love love come to me." Suddenly there was this huge spot light on him, the music for "I'm too Sexy" started playing and the rest of the kindergarten started dancing around and pulling their shirts off and crap. It was disturbingly cute, and yet scary.  
"We're going to lose to a bunch of five year olds..."  
"Don't be stupid Squall, they suck! Look at those pop star wanna- bes! They're... so... adorable..."  
"I'm a model, you know what I mean, and I do my little turn on the cat walk. Yeah on the catwalk! On the catwalk yeah, I shake my little tush on the cat walk!" They sang, walking around like models and then shaking their asses.  
I was just grateful that there was only one kindergarten home room. I guess parents weren't too big on sending their five-year-olds away to school. In fact, all of the younger grades were very small. About three quarters of the population was the high schoolers.  
I saw the kindergarten teacher giving Quistis a nasty look like, "top that!"  
Quistis flipped her the bird.  
When the kindergarten was done dancing around like a bunch of hooches, Cid got up on stage and said, "Wow, if I knew the show was gonna be this great, I would have charged admission! Oh, that's right, I did charge admission," he said, laughing at his own joke. I rolled my eyes. He made that joke every year. Actually, more like five times a year because he was always having these randoms fund raisers and crap. "Anyways, that was the kindergarten with 'I'm too Sexy.' And now, put your hands together for the first grade as they perform the song 'Real Emotion'!"  
Everyone cheered as three first grade girls walked on stage wearing blue and white outfits. Not everyone in the school actually performed; most classes just picked a few people to perform if they participated at all. But of course the kindergarten always did everything in together and danced perfectly in unison.  
"What can I do for you?" The lead singer sang. "What can I do for you?"  
"Get down!"  
"Lots of competition here..." Gackt whispered to me. On the bright side, none of these kids were any more experienced than I was, and they were much younger. However, they could just coast on their cuteness. How could Cid resist just letting the little kids win, like he always did?  
We finally stopped waiting back stage and relaxed until the eleventh grade home rooms started to do their performances. Not too many classes were all that notable though. A lot of kids just got up and did a really bad stand-up comedy act or another popular song. There were at least three Brittney Spears impersonators, which was sickening.  
The one performance that I really liked was done by one of the Sophomores. It was a solo performance, and this girl got up there in a blue kimono with white dragons on it and sang the song "Thesis of a Cruel Angel". She didn't even have any background music or use a microphone, but she was stunning. After that I was pretty sure we were going to lose, even with Quistis' brilliant idea.  
I was standing on the stage in front of everyone much too soon. It was like one minute I was listening to Xanthe sing "Thesis of a Cruel Angel" and the next Cid was saying, "And now we have a special performance from Quistis' home room, so give a big round of applause to Squall Leonheart!"  
I felt like a celebrity. Everyone cheered as I walked up to the microphone in the middle of the stage, right up front. I stalled a brief second by adjusting the microphone and saying, "Hey, everyone."  
"Chug! Chug! Chug!" They replied, expecting me to chug an entire carton of orange juice. I had claimed that I was going to do that in order to keep Quistis' plan a secret.  
"Heh, I know you guys want to see me chug some orange juice, but, well, my room mate drank all of it."  
"BOO! HISS!"  
"But I have some good news. Because you see, there are some things... much greater..." I said, stepping away from the microphone and projecting my voice naturally, "than chugging orange juice!" I finished as I slipped behind the curtain. There was a huge flash of light on the stage as if it were hit by lightning. Sparks flew, followed by a blue fog, as the curtain covering the back of the stage was pulled open suddenly, revealing Quistis.  
She was wearing the very same blue prom dress that she had borrowed from Edea when she was three. Only it fit her now, and she looked gorgeous in it. The effect was perfect; she actually looked like she was in the sky, she had a long silver veil and a blue gown, and the music started. There was a brief introduction. I recognized it since we had practiced this so many times in the last couple of days, but no one else was expecting a remix of "Eyes on Me."  
"Whenever I sang my song, on the stage, on my own," Quistis sang to the fast, upbeat background music. She stepped forward slightly, walking down a pale blue stair case as she sang. As she reached the stage singing "...I saw you smiling at me, was it real or just my fantasy?"  
Gackt walked on stage and stared at her, entranced, as if he were her biggest fan although it was really the other way around. Then she surprized the audiance by walking away from him as she sang, "You'll always be there in the corner of this tiny little bar..." She stood on the opposite corner of the stage from Gackt, facing away from him and singing to someone who wasn't really there. "Let me come to you, close as I want to be, close enough for me to hear your heart beating fast..." she sang, walking down the stairs and into the audiance. She walked around, then back to the stair case where she had started and ended by lying up the stair case and looking up, as if looking at someone up above her.  
"Julia..." Gackt sang, walking towards her as the music changed. "You told me you had forgotten him."  
"I couldn't have," Quistis sang back, still looking away. "No matter where or where I sing, I sing that song for him." She stood up and walked back and forth across the stage as she sang, "I still wonder where he is. A year ago his letters stopped coming, but every night I sing for him."  
"Julia, it's time you wrote a new song. A song for someone else..."  
"I don't want to write any more."  
"Why not?"  
"Because, what I said in the last one came true, and it was my last night here with him! Where is he? Where is Laguna?" Quistis sang. She acted emotional and finally faced Gackt, then let him hold her. That was my cue to enter from the top of the stair case and sing a trio with Gackt and Quistis. It was the shortest opera ever, but we only had ten minutes after all.  
The hardest part wasn't singing. The hardest part was getting to the top of those stairs. You see, I couldn't just climb up them from the front. The back of the stair case was actually a ladder with narrow rungs, and I had to get up there quietly, making a sudden appearance as if coming out of the sky like Quistis had. I had one comment to make about this production: Quistis had watched "Amadeus" way too many times.  
Quisits and Gackt froze. The spot light on them went out and there was a blinding blueish light on me. I would have stalled from nervousness, but I had to keep up with the music that Gackt had recorded ahead of time for this.  
The effect was perfect. For a few moments, it was just me singing about Julia. Then Quistis echoed me, singing an octave higher and replacing "Julia" with "Laguna". As if it weren't brilliant enough when Quistis and I were singing together, Gackt joined in with completely different words. But even though we were all speaking at once and saying different things, it didn't clash. As much as I hated being on stage like that, there was an indescribable feeling that came as the music got slightly louder and Quistis' voice rose to the highest note in the entire piece.  
"I have my eyes on you...."  
I wished we could go on like that forever as we held the last note for an amazingly long time, and then the lights suddenly went out.  
There was stunned silence for a moment. When the lights came back on, I was standing at the front of the stage, holding Quistis' hand. There was a thunderous applause as we stepped forward and bowed. Quistis was right; nobody was expecting us to do an opera.  
Of course afterwards Cid was so speechless that he made the smae old joke about charging admission for the show. Then he said something along the lines of, "Well, I hope that was a good enough substitute for seeing someone chug an entire carton of orange juice for the fifth time today."  
Everyone cheered.  
"And now what you've all been waiting for... the results of our fifth contest this year."  
Did I mention we went really over board on the fundraising thing?  
"Our third runner up for the talent show today, with fifty points for their class... the kindergarteners with their performance of 'Too Sexy!'"  
Everyone clapped as the kindergarten walked up in unison and took the yellow ribbon. That's lierally what they got; a cute little tiny yellow bow. It was really scary the way they moved in unison though.  
"The second runner up, with one hundred points for the sophomore class is... Xanthe Kelsylva, of room 311, for her song 'Thesis of a Cruel Angel'." Xanthe literally ran onto the stage cheering to get her little red ribbon. Then just to be extra cute she tied it in her hair and stuff.  
"And finally..."  
As stupid as it was, I was anxious to find out if we had really won with our performance.  
"The winner of three hundred points..." he paused for dramatic effect before saying, "The surprise opera performed by Quistis Trepe, Squall Leonheart, and... wait a minute, are you even a student here?"  
"Uh, I'm the exchange from Trabia," Gackt lied. "Gackt Camui."  
"And Gackt Camui! Congratulations... whatever home room you guys are," he said, handing Gackt a little tiny blue ribbon. All three of us jumped up and down, screaming with excitement. "And now for what you've all been waiting for. My helper monkeys have looked over the order forms and the results of this past spirit week. And so, the winning class is..." he opened an envelope and unfolded the piece of paper as a drum roll played. "Home room 217!"  
The three of us screamed like little girls and hugged eachother. We had done it! We had won a stupid fundraiser! And I would never, ever again make an ass of myself by screaming and hugging again. I sort of hated myself for that.  
  
Epilouge  
  
When I got back to my room that night, it was one in the morning because Quistis decided to have a party afterwards to celebrate. I immediately flopped down on my bed and turned on Cthulhu's TV. I sighed, feeling sort of depressed. Next week, Cthulhu was going to take this TV away when he moved back to Galbadia Garden, and Gackt was leaving too. He had to get back to Japan so that he could continue with his life as a celebrity.  
As for me, it was back to normal. I only had about two months until the SeeD exam, and after that my life would never be the same again. As I was watching a truly awful British comedy, I heard a knock at the door. "Come in," I said, even though I was in my underwear.  
Mario opened the door and walked in with a pizza from Juan Pablo's Pizza Joint. "Here's-a your pizza!"  
"Took long enough!" I said, opening the box. I was a total pig and ate it right there in my room, since the cafeteria closed. But I swore that I would never, ever microwave a rat in room 210.  
The best thing about pizza was that it didn't require utensils. I could eat it without a spork, and even when I could only use my left hand it wasn't too hard. I finally did get rid of that cast though. I got annoyed and cut it off with my gunblade so that I could go back to using my right hand.  
When I was done, I mindlessly threw the pizza box down behind my bed. Then I realized that it would probably attract rodents, so I reached down next to my bed to pull it out. What I pulled up was a card board box, but it was much bigger than the pizza box. "What the hell..." I said, looking at the large card board box. On the top of it I found an address. It said, "Room 52096, Galbadia Garden, Galbadia." I opened it up, and...  
There were my pants! That stupid, dorky, freakish, fuck hole room mate had never gotten around to sending them to Galbadia after all!  
The Very, Very End 


End file.
